


Gimme Shelter

by Adarian



Series: The Rolling Stones Trilogy (1960's AU) [1]
Category: Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-18
Updated: 2015-02-08
Packaged: 2018-03-02 03:10:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 14
Words: 22,176
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2797424
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Adarian/pseuds/Adarian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In a Ferelden inspired by the 1960s, Wardens Tabris and Alistair must try to work out their differences during the Blight. Which is not easy in a segregated society that pits them against each other due to their respective genders, race, and social class.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Discussions of rape and sexual assault will occur in multiple chapters but never will be shown. Viewer discretion advised**

 

“Babe, did you hear that?” 

Tabris sat up in bed, looking up as her husband peered through the window. He was still unused to the sounds of the Alienage in the early morning. It was not uncommon to hear the gangs outside their window, the occasional gunshot. But on this occasion, it seemed Nelaros was referring to something other than the sounds of poverty.

She pulled her house coast around her and looked out the window. She watched the helicopters go overhead, saw the mist that came down around them. She coughed slightly.

“Silverite,” Tabris replied, “They’ve been coating the houses just in case of further darkspawn invasions.“

They looked at each other in apprehension. 

“Do you think they’ll come here?” Nelaros asked nervously.

Tabris shook her head, “I honestly don’t know. But they seem to think so. Come on now, this is supposed to be a good day. Why don’t you go start breakfast, I’ll start ironing your suit.”

Nelaros smiled, “Thanks love. For someone who works metal all day, I seem to be quite terrible at not burning clothes.”

She kissed him and nuzzled his nose slightly. They held each other for a moment. It had been a short time now, only a few months since they had sworn their own wedding vows. And yet…yet there was a peace between them. Tabris knew it was love, still slowly unfolding. It made her feel easier for Shianni. She hoped her cousin would be just as happy with her future husband.

They pulled apart as they heard a knock at the door. Nelaros kissed her cheek and went to the kitchen to start husking corn. Tabris opened the door and let in her father. 

Cyrion gave her a kiss on both cheeks, his skin smelling slightly of silverite. “I appear to have gotten a dose myself,” he laughed, “May I use your shower before breakfast?”

“Of course, Papa,” she laughed, “There’s a few clean towels in there. Try not to use all the hot water up. I imagine Shianni and Soris will need to clean up to once they get here.”

“It is good for you to share your home with us today.”

“It’s nothing, Papa. I remember how it was getting ready for my wedding in the little apartment. Besides, it gives the groom and his family space to prepare and be together. I am a little fond of you, you know.”

Cyrion laughed, “And I you, my little girl. I will go get cleaned up.”

Tabris smiled, going back into her small laundry area. She took the clothes her and Nelaros were to wear today off her drying rack, pleased with herself for making them as clean as she could with the bar of soap and the little spinner that Nelaros had bought her. She had grown up cleaning by hand, it was a pleasant luxury, cutting down the process a bit. She had heard noble women had machines that did the entire process for you, but this was too extravagant. They would have to start saving up for the children after all.

Tabris laid out her blue dress, the one she had been married in herself. She had already steamed it and it looked crisp and new under her hands. It was her favourite gown and perhaps the only nice dress she would ever own. Nelaros’ suit was a bit wrinkled and a little short in the leg, since it was a hand down from his father. Tabris had tried to fix it the best she could, though she had difficulty sewing by hand. She had been spoiled since Soris had always been much better with a needle and thread than she had.

Tabris set the iron to warm up, leaving her small room to go and open the door. She saw Nelaros had beaten her to it, greeting her cousins with handshakes and kisses. Tabris greeted them both, taking Shianni by the hand and into her little laundry room while she finished Nelaros’ pants.

“Look at you!” Shianni grinned, “A real housewife now.”

Tabris laughed, “Stop it before I hurt you. It is rather nice though, I have to admit. A good home, a handsome man with a good job. We’re even going to get a phone installed next week. Can you believe it? Now the next arranged marriages will be all happening in my kitchen while I gleefully eavesdrop cooking dinner.”

“Oh so sinful,” Shianni laughed, “Is that what I have to look forward to?”

Tabris smiled softly, “It’s better than I would have thought. I am happy. Really happy. Maybe my mother would have thought me complacent…but I don’t care.”

Shianni patted her on the back, “She would want you to be happy.”

Tabris smiled, “I hope so.”

Nelaros entered the room, kissing Tabris affectionately on the side of her neck. She blushed as he announced, “Breakfast is ready.”

She unplugged the iron and followed her family into the kitchen, her husband holding her hand.

*

Shianni made a beautiful bride, dressed in pale yellow, a shift dress that was embroidered with soft white lilies. Tabris braided her hair as the others fussed over her, teasing her about her future husband. She looked up at her cousin, and they beamed at each other.

It would be a good day, Tabris thought to herself. 

They came out into the yard around the great tree. The neighbourhood had been lit with tiny lanterns, strung between the houses like a hundred stars. Shianni looked up in amazement and Tabris smiled, squeezing her cousin’s hand as they made their way to the raised platform. 

They greeted others, Shianni separated from her as she met her future in-laws. Nelaros crept to Tabris’ side and held her. She curled into her husband’s frame as they looked upon the scene.

“She’s beautiful, isn’t she?” Tabris asked, happy tears in her eyes. 

“So are you,” he insisted, nuzzling against her.

“What’s gotten into you?” Tabris asked with a laugh.

Nelaros blushed and was about to speak when the crowd quieted. Tabris went forth and saw the five human men driving down into the streets in a bright red convertible.

The driver walked out, announcing, “Try not to get yourself mugged, boys.”

She recognized him now. He was the Mayor’s son, a real ass who often was in the tabloids for some reason or another. She remembered seeing him a few years before…she prayed he did not remember her face.

She looked and saw Shianni and satisfied that she seemed to be in a safe spot, Tabris blended back into the crowd.

Vaughn looked around in amusement, “It seems there is a party after all, isn’t there? It seems like there’s plenty to go around, isn’t there? I love a bad girl cleaned up.”

Tabris froze when Vaughn’s eyes met hers. 

“You…” he said, pointing at her, “Boys, grab that one.”

“No!” Shianni protested, pushing herself forward. Vaughn laughed, “Take this one too, she has spunk!”

Soris tried to get to her before she was grabbed. A man tried to hit Vaughn, but Vaughn took a pistol out and shot it into the air. Women ran back indoors with their children, men going to grab what weapons they could to protect them. 

Tabris felt herself being grabbed and she screamed. Nelaros tried to reach her, but was punched across the face and he fell heavily to the ground.

They were thrown into the trunk of the car, four of them piled with little room to breathe or move. Tabris would not allow herself to cry, but merely prayed that Nelaros got back up again.

*

She woke again on plush carpet, a bruise across her face throbbing as she stood up. There were two other women, as well as Shianni. She went to her side, holding her cousin in her arms. Shianni shook like a leaf beneath her.

“We’re going to get out of here,” Tabris promised, “I will get you home.”

Another protested, “Let’s just do as they ask…and we’ll go home and we’ll forget. That is what we have always done. It keeps us alive.”

Tabris didn’t know what to say, turning to look at their surroundings. They appeared to be locked in a bedroom. Besides a few external injuries, all four women seemed to be stable. Tabris looked around for a window or a weakness in the door, but found nothing.

She swore at herself and sat in a formless chair that squished under her weight. She looked at it in confusion and then turned back to the other three.

“I’ll think of something. Just hang tight.”

The door opened and they scrambled back. Tabris stood in front of the other three defiantly as Vaughn walked into the room. He reached out and cupped her chin.

“You,” he said with a sneer, “You’re staying with me. Boys, I don’t care who you pick. Just leave us here.”

Tabris froze in fear as the others were taken from her, her eyes meeting Shianni’s for what she feared was the last time. As the door locked behind them, Vaughn stroked her cheek.

“I’ve thought a lot about you, elf,” he said, “Not many whores refuse gold.”

She shuddered underneath his touch, as he continued, “I thought of what it feel like to make you submit under me. Make you mine.” He picked up her hand and tore off her wedding ring. It rang as it hit against the wall.

He slapped her across the face and she tried not to flinch, “You went and married another little elfling, eh? Did you give him any children? Answer me.”

He slapped her again and she tried to move into the action. He threw her across the room, her hand resting near her discarded wedding ring. She saw it and she whispered, “No. We have no children.”

“Ah,” Vaughn sneered, “the little boy couldn’t get it up? No worry for you then. I’ll give you a son here and now.”

As he tugged off his pants, Tabris felt a surge of adrenaline go through her. She stood and pushed him back as he had his head down. She kicked him in the groin and as he fell, she ran to his coat, grabbing the gun she had seen earlier. She clicked the safety off of it while he rose, sneering.

“Have you learned some tricks since then, my whore?” He asked, “Do you even know how to fire that thing?”

Tabris aimed two inches to his left and fired, the bullet whizzing past him.

“Well enough,” she said, panting.

His face faded, “This was meant to be a game…I’ll give you whatever you want. Just…just don’t shoot me.”

“If my mother had said that,” Tabris asked quietly, “Would you have listened?”

He did not finish the word please before she had pulled the trigger, shooting him dead between the eyes. As he fell over, she shook for a second, leaning over as she caught her breath. 

There was blood scattered over her gown. She closed her eyes. That wasn’t important now. She grabbed her wedding ring and shot the lock off the door. She heard screaming and ran down the hall of the hotel. She kicked in the first door she saw, shooting Vaughn’s man dead with his pants off. She signaled over to the woman to follow behind her and she grabbed his gun. 

The third man came out with the fourth, the elf thrown out before them as appeasement. As they ran, she shot them both in the back as they fell. She kicked in the last door. Shianni was crumpled on the ground and the man was dressing quickly, begging, “I didn’t-“

Tabris shot him too, letting him fall to the ground. 

Shianni looked up at her, shaking. Tabris helped her up without a word and carried her out the front. She heard police sirens blaring and she saw Nelaros and Soris running up towards them. Nelaros embraced her, kissing her deeply as she cried into his frame.

“Freeze!” they heard and they parted, both putting their hands in the air. She heard a gunshot and Nelaros fell. 

“She’s the one who did it!” One of Vaughn’s men, shoulder bleeding as he shuffled out, “That little elf whore. I was trying to shoot her.”

Tabris barely heard this as she fell to the ground beside him, pleading with him to keep his eyes open. She tried to staunch the bleeding, but she was pulled from him. She cried out, biting and kicking. She saw Shianni sit beside him and hold his hand as they threw her into the back of the police car.

*

“Prisoner 34. Luthien "Louie" Tabris. Elf. Age 20. Convicted of three accounts first degree murder, one account of attempted murder, resisting arrest, and assault against an officer.”

“Any family?”

“Widowed. She has a living father. Her mother has been dead for four years.”

“She will do.”

“Are you certain?”

“Open the cell door.”

Tabris was dragged out by her handcuffs, her battered face looking up to see a dark skinned man dressed in the dark blue uniform of the Wardens, his rank signified by the three gold bars across his jacket.

Tabris managed a smirk through her split lips. 

Duncan smiled, "Perfect.”


	2. Chapter 2

Tabris hated being at the beginning of the line. Chained with the others, she pushed herself harder than she should have to avoid their jeers. Still, they spat out at her, hollered and hooted as she was pranced before the others. Even among convicts, she was the last among them. 

The occasional beating by a guard caused them to be quieter, but even that had stopped as they neared Ostagar. Tabris looked up blearily as they looked upon the ruins. It had been a nature reserve until recently, the ruins left for the creatures of the forests and those who hid from the CBI. Yet here in this place she saw soldiers marching, tanks being rolled in and the smell of silverite. 

They were unchained when they reached the camp and Tabris was too tired to run. There were 10 others from the prison, another five from other various jails on the trip south. She was the only woman and one of two elves. The other did not glance at her, making his way to the water trough. 

Tabris waited until the other men had parted and she tried to clean her cuts as best she could in the water trough. Her hair was matted, but that was no matter now, it would soon come off. She flinched as she saw another face reflecting in the water beside her. She tried to scuttle away until Duncan’s hand grasped her not unkindly. She looked up at him, timid and afraid. 

“I will not hurt you, child,” he said gently, “You need not hide from me.”

Duncan let go of her wrist and she remained beside him.

“You wonder why I chose you.”

“You wanted someone who could kill,” she said hoarsely. 

Duncan’s face softened, “I wanted someone who did what had to be done. Of the sixteen I brought south, you are the strongest.”

She laughed, her throat breaking into a cough. 

“You are one of us now,” he said quietly, “Some might think you weak because of your sex or race. But I think you and I know better.”

“When I was released, they called me widow,” Tabris said. 

“Your husband passed away a few hours after your arrest. I am told he was cremated and his ashes scattered around the home tree, as is your way. I know they took your ring when you went into custody. I wanted to give it back to you when the others could not take it.”

He reached into his pocket and held out the bloodstained ring. She took it gingerly as he said, “I am sorry.”

She looked up as a helicopter went overhead, watching it fly over the camp. She did not say anything else, but merely took the ring with a curt nod and left. 

The sixteen recruits were lined up in two groups of eight as they faced inspection. Tabris stood nervously in her stained wedding gown. She seemed an obvious target among them, her pale blue gown against the dark blue slacks and jackets of the Grey Wardens, their gear laden with the same silverite that the air smelled so strongly of. 

A blonde man went forth in front of them, “When you are called, move into the medical tent to your right. You will be given an injection to help protect you against the sickness. When you are…done, you will continue moving right and to the main tent. You are not to turn around, you are not to wait for another. Anyone who dallies will be severely punished. Loren, Daveth.”

Tabris waited, her heart beating stronger as the line grew shorter. She had heard screams and cries and a few rare sighs of relief. As she was nudged forth into the tent, she touched her wedding ring and took a breath.

“Tabris, Luthien.”

She saw the blood on the floor and she turned to the exit, dragged back into a chair by two others. She heard a chant, but she could not listen as she was pulled back, her neck exposed as a needle was jammed into her throat.

She saw a great dragon crying out to her and she fell to the ground. 

Tabris woke on the ground, a blanket tossed over her. She heard men talking above her and she stirred.

“Are you telling me out of sixteen recruits, you had four survivors?”

“It was a long journey, sir, I imagine they were not in their best shape.”

“Or the taint is growing stronger, the Archdemon is growing stronger. We will not have much more time, bring in who else you can. We need more Wardens.”

Tabris tried to speak, but her throat still throbbed from the injection site. She touched it gingerly, winching at the pain. She turned, seeing three others asleep on the ground beside her. 

She recognized Duncan, who turned and knelt down beside her, bringing a flashlight to her eyes. She blinked, letting him examine her pupils in silence.

“Good,” he said, “I was worried you injured your head when you fell.”

She wanted to laugh. She had been through a process that had killed most of her group, but they worried she had a concussion. But she could not laugh, her throat still swollen from the injection, tears coming to her eyes. Duncan offered her a hand and she let herself be brought to her feet. 

“Go over to the third tent. The other recruits will be given an orientation, then you will be brought your tasks. I’m afraid I will not see you again until our evening meal, but perhaps you will dine with me.”

Duncan paused, “I realize that may make you uncomfortable. It is meant of friendship, not courtship. My life before becoming a Warden…was not dissimilar to yours. I thought you could use a friend.”

“I appreciate the thought,” Tabris said firmly, coughing as her throat relaxed, “But I do not need to be coddled.”

Tabris sat through her session, was assigned her gear by an unhelpful quartermaster, and found herself sitting quietly with the few female Wardens, attempting to shorten the legs on her uniform so she did not trip.

The rain started around them as the sun went down in the sky. She continued her work inside the tent, quietly speaking with the others as she heard the sirens ring throughout the ruins. She stopped her sewing, putting her pants back on as they were, and followed her fellow Wardens out into the dusk.

She saw her fellow Wardens running, passing out arms and ammunitions. She grabbed her pack and gun, following the others as they were given instructions to their formations. She was near the middle, pressed in between a swarthy dwarf and a bitter mage. 

There were speeches and pronouncements, the king himself over the radio from a secure location, his voice lost in the heavy rain as he wished them a glorious battle. 

Tabris started to panic as they marched out, her body still aching from the trek there. She had heard the plan, they were to begin and were to be rescued by the other armies, to flank the enemy. They were the bait. They just had to last until 18:30. 

She slipped her wedding ring into her breast pocket and zipped it tight. 

She heard the helicopters overhead as they heard the order to go forward down the mountain. She took her rifle out and went over the trench. 

The first wave hit them like the surf crashing into the shore. Tabris felt herself be swept away by the creatures shooting back at her, one tearing down the man beside her. The first shot she fired went through a genlock’s skull. She stopped being afraid and pushed forward.

As the battle continued, she checked her watch. It was 19:00. Where were the other forces? She looked up, rolling as an armoured ogre attempted to sweep her up. Duncan jumped in between the two of them, stabbing the creature deep in the gut with his bayonet. It bellowed out as it swept Duncan away from her, causing the man to hit a rock beside her. 

Tabris shot the creature three times in the chest before it fell down. She knelt down to check Duncan’s pulse, the man reaching out and grabbing her wrist.

He croaked out, “They’re not coming, are they?”

Before Tabris could reply, Duncan whispered hoarsely, “There’s a Grey Warden here. He’s your age. Blonde, maybe 6’2”, 6’3”. His name is Alistair. You need to get him out of here, now. Please. You need to keep him safe.”

“How will I find him?” Tabris yelled, indicating the chaos around him. 

“Promise me.”

She nodded, trying to hold him out of the mud. 

As Duncan faded, he smiled, “I knew I chose well.”

Tabris grabbed his knife and rose, looking around at the chaos around her. There was a contingent of Grey Wardens two hundred feet from her. Pulling the knife ahead of her, she slashed her way through the darkspawn until she reached the patch of blue in the black.

None of them matched the description and she called out, “Where is Alistair?” 

One of the women pointed behind them, a league of Grey Wardens guarding the King as he strode out into the battle on horseback. They were both watching as Cailian was grabbed and thrown from his horse, bleeding on the ground as they were overtaken. 

Tabris ran.

She shot out, causing the hurlock to stumble. The other Grey Wardens spread out, one carrying Cailian’s body over his shoulder. She looked among them, none of them matching the description. She screamed out as the bullet passed through her shoulder, falling on the ground. She looked up, and saw a tall man punch out the genlock who fired the shot. 

“Can you stand?” He called out as he knelt.

She examined him and asked, “Alistair?”

He smirked, “My reputation proceeds me.”

“We need to get out of here,” she explained, “Duncan’s orders. We need to leave here now.”

Alistair checked his watch and his eyes met hers. 

“I’m not leaving them,” Alistair said, “I’m a Grey Warden, if we’re all going to die, let me die with them.”

“Duncan’s dead,” Tabris said firmly, “His last command to me was to make sure you live. I don’t intend to let him down. I’ll drag you out of here if I have to.”

“You’re half the size of me!”

“Hasn’t stopped me before.”

Alistair sighed and she grabbed his hand, pulling him back down into the trenches. She examined her pack and reloaded her gun. 

“You still have bullets?” She called out.

He shook his head and she tossed him the knife. 

“Follow my lead,” she commanded and they went up the other side of the trench, others fleeing as they were shot down by their commanding officers. When Tabris saw the first one, she understood. Deserters would spread disease. They had run nearly half a mile when they heard the call of the dragon, both turning to stare as it wrapped it’s talon around a helicopter, crunching it until it fell to the ground.

Tabris felt the blood loss in her shoulder, her right arm growing weaker and weaker. She stumbled and Alistair scooped her up, gear and all, running towards the makeshift roads that led them there. As bullets were fired at them, Alistair hit the ground, scooping her in his arms to shield her body. He held onto her as another passed through her, his nails digging into her skin as she passed out.


	3. Chapter 3

Tabris woke in pain, crying out as the last bullet in her shoulder was removed. She spun around, grabbing the throat of the woman sitting on her bed. She glared at her, raising her other hand up with a ball of fire.

“I’m going to give you three seconds,” the woman warned, “I promise I’m trying to help you.”

Tabris let go, apologizing quietly.

“Where’s Alistair?”

The woman pointed to the cot beside her, “Sleeping. The fool was driving me a little crazy, so I gave him a little extra pain relief. He should be much more pleasant when he wakes up.”

“Who are you?” Tabris asked.

“My name is Morrigan. You do not know me, but I had watched your progress for some time. It is not often these Wardens bring a woman into their ranks, and less still one of your kin. You intrigued me. I wanted to know if you would survive. Now my curiosity is satisfied.”

“Did you save us?”

“My mother and I,” Morrigan stated, “I am not nearly that talented. Or that invested, I am afraid. Still, I am impressed. If I was to wager who would be the last two Wardens in this land, I would not have guessed either of you.”

Tabris caught her breath, “What did you say?”

Morrigan’s eyes softened, “I thought you would have guessed. You are the only two survivors. We looked all over the area…you would not wish to see it now. But only the two of you survived. That idiot shielded you right until the moment my mother pulled you from his arms.”

Tabris raised an eyebrow, “He should have run.”

“I agree. It was sentimental and foolish, though you seem to have benefited.” 

Tabris relaxed as Morrigan continued her taste, feeling the alcohol swab her out. She winced as the magic brought the skin back together, feeling the muscles reknit. She looked up at Morrigan. She was in a simple white peasant dress, stained from blood and dirt. She wore a thin black overcoat over this, embroidered with purple stars and circles. Morrigan had this belted in the middle, the belt containing pockets for potions, a small holster for her blade. 

“Your uniform is mostly undamaged,” Morrigan said, “Though you will want to wear other clothing when you travel. I suspect making your identity well known may not be a safe decision at this point. I will lend you some clothing until we get to Lothering.”

“Hold on now,” Tabris protested, “Where? Why?”

An old woman entered the room then, a thin smile running across her face as she saw Tabris was upright. 

“You are Grey Wardens,” the old woman said, “Your responsibility to defend this country again the Blight. If there are only two, you will need help. Even from an apostate. Lothering is near and the highway runs through it. Must you know every detail? You did not ask when you were told to save Alistair.”

The old woman waved her hand over the sleeping man, who stirred at the spell. His brown eyes opened blearily, meeting Tabris’ across the space between them. He smiled sadly and she returned the gesture. She looked back to the old woman.

“My name is Flemeth. Perhaps you have heard of me. Perhaps not. You need not know more than that. My daughter will protect you as you protect him. Without all three of you, you will not succeed. You must leave soon, there is not much time left.”

Alistair rose groggily as Flemeth continued, “We have a jeep in the back. There’s enough gas to get into Lothering, but I suggest you go on foot where you can. Fuel will disappear quickly. Save your bullets for when they are needed most. If you can get other weapons, swords, knifes, take them. The more mages you have the better, they do not need guns. Morrigan has some food packed, it will last a week at least. Do not travel at night and keep your identities secret. Your lives will get significantly more difficult if a journalist manages to get a photo of either of you.”

“Why did you save us?” Tabris asked, “Why not anyone else on the field?”

Flemeth laughed, “I was going for the boy. He just refused to move without you. Believe that or not.”

Morrigan cleared her throat, “We need to go, Mother. Try not to get yourself killed.”

“Psht,” Flemeth scowled, “Only if you do the same, dear. Do try to have fun.”

They loaded the car the best they could, Morrigan passing them jackets to cover up their uniforms. She promised once they got into town, they would find better clothing. Morrigan hit the wheel a few times as she turned the key in the engine. She cursed as the motor finally started, Alistair turning to look over at Tabris.

“I never got your name,” he smiled weakly.

“Private Luthien Tabris. But everyone calls me Louie,” she said quietly.

He laughed, “A Private. Well, isn’t that humbling. I’m Lieutenant Alistair Juleson. Just call me Alistair. If there’s only-“

He stopped as they started to drive off into the forests. She meant to respond to him, but Morrigan called their attention.

“Keep your eyes open,” she said, “You’re going to have to shoot any stragglers when I’m driving. Hang in there.”

*

They made it to Lothering just after noon. The highway was littered in abandoned cars, looters scattered over the remains, their eyes already tainted with corruption. A lone dog wandered the road and had decided it was fond of Alistair. In an act of kindness, she suggested he take it with them. 

They were running on vapours when they parked in an empty spot near the Chantry. The four of them came out of the car, blending into the groups of refugees already in the city. Morrigan whistled them over, the three following her. 

“I’m going to get clothing for the two of you,” she said, “Go to the tavern, see if you hear anything, and for the Gods' sakes, be careful. Are your watches still working?”

They both nodded.

“Good. Then meet me back here in two hours. We need to keep moving before night falls. If I can get some gas, we’ll keep the car. Otherwise, we walk. I’ll try to get some better shoes as well. Pick up whatever dried food you can.”

As Morrigan went off, raising the hood of her overcoat over her head, Alistair sighed, “You don’t have to babysit me.”

“You saved my life,” Tabris said, “I’d like to make that up to you.”

“I was too scared to move,” he admitted, “It was not a great act of self-sacrifice.”

As they made their way to the entrance of the bar, Tabris found herself pushed to the ground. Alistair protested as she raised herself from the mud.

“Can’t you read, knife-ear?” A man sneered at her, “This is a human bar only. None of your kind here. There’s a knife-ear bar down the street. I’m sure they’ll serve you.”

As Alistair reached for his gun, Tabris waved him off.

“It’s fine,” she said softly, “You go there. I’ll meet you down the street when you’re done. Just be careful, alright?”

He nodded, slipping in among the others. She continued down the street, her ears burning in shame. This is why she had stayed in the Alienage. As she pushed her way through the masses, she heard dark laughter. Triggering something inside of her, she followed the sound until she saw him.

A Qunari, his tan linen suit torn nearly to shreds, his silver hair matted and tangled, was caged in the center of the street. He knelt as the passersby threw rocks into his cage, one reaching in and burning his skin with a cigarette. He did not protest. He bent his head and waited.

Tabris went forth, pushing a man aside as he attempted to put the Qunari’s hair on fire. She punched him, causing him to fall into the mud. Another human man grabbed her, cursing in her ear until he crumpled, the Qunari’s hand around his throat. 

His violet eyes met hers and he released the man, causing him to run. Others left, seeing the game was over for now.

“Are you alright?” She asked softly.

“I was to ask you the same, bas,” he replied.

Tabris went to the locks and began to work at them. She asked, “How long have you been in here?”

“Three weeks.”

She let out a low whistle, “Then you must be eager to get out.”

“No,” he admitted softly.

“If you stay in here, you will die,” she said quietly, “At their hands or the darkspawn. Neither is a good death.”

“And you would know a good death?” 

“I’m a Grey Warden,” she said, “I nearly had one.”

His ears perked up, “You are who we sought then.”

“We?”

“It is a long story.”

“They usually are.”

Tabris undid the final lock, opening the door. He stood awkwardly, wincing as he stretched muscles that had been still for so long.

“You do not care what I did to be caged?”

“A man once released me from a cage,” she said, “He gave me another chance. I’d like to return the favour.”

“I have killed many men.”

“And so have I,” Tabris said. 

He seemed to accept that, wincing as she offered him a hand. He did not take it, but allowed her to give him some of her rations. They spoke little, but when she asked him to follow her, Sten swore his life to her. Without doing so out loud, she realized she had done the same. 

*  
They met with the others outside of the Chantry. Tabris and Sten arrived last, seeing three humans standing beside the dog. When Sten saw the habit of the Chantry sister, he hesitated and Tabris touched his arm reassuringly. They exchanged a glance and moved forward. 

“I see you found a friend,” Tabris said to Alistair.

“And you have too,” Alistair replied, “Maker, what on earth is that thing?”

Tabris shot him a look and Alistair swallowed roughly, “Well, I mean. It’s good to have some assistance. Leliana here wants to come with us. She’s good in a fight. She saved my hide not that long ago. Turns out, it would have been helpful to have you in the bar after all.”

Morrigan and Tabris exchanged a look as Morrigan cut in, “We have enough supplies, but not much. We must pick a destination. We can go as far as we can by the car, but we must go on foot afterwards.”

“Then we should go to Redcliffe,” Alistair stated, “I know the Arl, he’s a good man. It is not far and we will find much aid there. We can hide alongside the refugees.”

Morrigan threw a bundle at Tabris, “Here. Find a spot to dress. I guessed your size. What doesn’t fit you, give to the Sister. Her habit is a little conspicuous. Your friend will just have to clean his suit the best he can. There won’t be much for him on the road.”

“Then let’s head out,” Tabris said, “We need to get out of here before the darkspawn arrive. Move out.”

*

They pulled the car over as the night grew darker around them. They would drive through the night, but they needed time to prepare food and clean.

In that quiet, it was the first time Tabris allowed herself to mourn her husband. She cleaned her wedding ring in the river, removing the caked blood. She knelt there in her too long skirt and blouse, wrapping her Warden jacket around her for warmth. She heard the crackle of steps on the ground and she whipped around, pulling her gun out of her holster. 

She saw Alistair standing before her and Tabris put her gun away. 

Alistair glanced down at the ring in her hand and then back at her.

“You’re married,” he said incredulously, “I’ve never heard of a married woman in the Grey Wardens.”

“I'm a widow,” Tabris said, putting her ring back on. 

“I’m sorry.”

Tabris asked, “Were you looking for me?”

“Yes,” he said, “Morrigan thinks we should not linger. The forest here will not be safe much longer. We can take turns driving. Can you drive?”

Tabris shook her head, “There was not much cause for it in the Alienage.”

“Then you rest. I’ll drive. We’ll get to Redcliffe by morning. I’ll bring your Qunari up front. He seems like he’d be able to do some damage if a darkspawn appears.”

“His name is Sten,” Tabris said quietly.

Alistair raised an eyebrow, “I don’t trust him. We’ll deal with it when we get to Redcliffe. Perhaps the Arl can arrange for him to be sent back to his people.”

Tabris said nothing and returned quietly to camp, Alistair following sheepishly behind her.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, real talk. Alistair is a jerk in this story. Let's just say it how it is, okay? My main motivation for doing so is a contrast in how he was raised versus how she was raised in this society. He will wisen up, I promise. It just takes awhile.
> 
> Like a really long time. I understand if you can't hang in there. 
> 
> Sorry, Alistair, baby.

The truck was slowly running out of fuel as they neared Redcliffe. An encounter with darkspawn further south had resulted in a bullet hole through the gas tank, a slow drip falling behind them as they made their way down the highway.

At the edge of the valley, they all realized quite quickly the vehicle would not be able to make a trip down the mountain and decided to abandon the car by a decrepit windmill. They grabbed all the supplies they could carry, just in case they would not be able to return or more likely, the car would be stolen for scrap. 

The six of them went down, Alistair walking in the front with Tabris, his slightly too short pants revealing his long white socks. Tabris thought he oddly matched her far too long skirt. They made quite a pair among the refugees. 

Alistair had been quiet since arriving in the valley; hearing that the Arl was sick by a passing toll collector had been a shock. Now that they were informed that the castle had been barricaded, he had been almost silent. 

As they arrived at the Chantry, Alistair pointed out the back entrance.

“I’m afraid you’ll have to go in through there,” Alistair apologized, “It’s a bit more…backward out here.”

Tabris bristled, “I get it. Even God requires a knife-ear only entrance?”

“I just don’t want to start-“

Sten interrupted, “I follow you, Warden. I will go in with you through the lesser door. I am not one of their kind either.” 

The two exchanged a look, Tabris nodding to him in appreciation. 

As the group split into two, the dog following behind them, Tabris looked over at Sten and said, “You did not have to do that.”

“Nor do you,” Sten replied, his violet eyes growing in fire.

At first she feared that he had grown angry with her, but saw that the ire in his glare was directed at a Chantry sister who stared as they walked into the building together. 

As they entered, they glimpsed their other companions already meeting with a human man who appeared to know Alistair. Alistair saw them and waved them over to join them. The man continued to speak only to Alistair, his eyes only once glancing up Tabris’ body. 

The army was being called in; the castle was to be burnt to the ground to prevent the taint from spreading. There was little time left to evacuate everyone from the city as it was and there were just not enough men.

Alistair glimpsed over at Tabris hopefully and she sighed. They needed the Arl, certainly, but there were only five more bodies. What possibly could they do? Morrigan motioned for her to come to her side. While the men spoke, Morrigan whispered to Tabris, “While I do not think it is worth saving these fools, I do think our goal here is still worthy. If the Arl is safe, they will certainly call off the strike. What man will dare willingly kill his lord? You will have a bargaining chip there.”

They exchanged a look and Tabris nodded slightly.

Tabris stepped forward, “We will rescue the Arl, Bann Teagan. Instead of wasting your men here, you will use them to help us approach Denerim.”

Teagan laughed, frowing and glancing at Alistair, “Does this woman speak for you now, Alistair? I thought you were the Grey Warden here.”

“As am I,” Tabris stated, folding her arms over her chest, “Tell your men to stop their attack. We will free the castle and end this threat. It is not darkspawn and there is no need to purge the village. Give us twelve hours and you will have the Arl.”

Teagan and Alistair exchanged a look and Alistair smiled awkwardly.

“Go,” Teagan said, “But in twelve hours, I will send my men unless I have proof the castle is safe and the forces are stopped. Go, you have little time. Will you need transportation?”

“No,” Tabris interrupted Alistair’s agreement, “We go on foot. We merely need ammunition and flares.”

Alistair followed her as she made to exit the building. He paused, noticing it was the elf-only door. She glared at him slightly as she walked out, Sten just behind her.

*

“You got to be shitting me,” Tabris cursed, storming out of the room. 

Alistair blushed at her profanity, pacing behind her as she walked back and forth. 

“Do you think this is a good idea?” Tabris asked, “What the hell is wrong with this woman? We have to go save her possessed son, and then we have to go save her husband with the charred remnants of a dead woman? Do we not have more important things to do? We need to contact the other Wardens, we need to get Loghain out of office. And yet when I suggest we leave, you called me…what was it, a cold hearted bitch?”

Alistair ran his hand through her hair, “I didn’t mean…”

“This is a Blight,” Tabris shouted, “There are people dying in the streets everyday and no one gives a shit, but we have to stop everything to save two nobles? Why do you care so much that you turn on me, in front of them? There’s only the two of us, Alistair. We need to work together. If you need us to do this, fine, but I need to know why.”

“My last name isn’t Juleson. Not legally, anyway.”

Tabris frowned as Alistair said quietly, “It’s Theirin.”

“You?” Tabris replied, confounded, “You’re the noble bastard. Shit…I read about you in the tabloids once, given to the Chantry to raise as a priest…CBI agent, I can’t remember. That’s why…”

“That’s why Duncan made you drag me from battle,” Alistair said quietly, “The Arl raised me, his wife and he. Connor was born just before I left for the Chantry, but he is still a brother to me. Please. For the love of everything. Please help me.”

Tabris paused, her hand running to her head, forgetting her hair was still shaven. She looked up again at Alistair, who waited with baited breath.

“You will never call me a bitch again,” Tabris stated, “Is that clear? I don’t care if you’re the future king of Ferelden or the Maker himself. No man will ever speak to me that way again and live. Do you understand?”

Alistair nodded.

“We need to go to the Tower anyway,” Tabris said, “We will save the boy. Maybe they can help the Arl too. We’ll leave in the morning. Tell Teagan to get a convoy ready. I have no interest in storming another building with less than a dozen men.”

“Thank you,” Alistair responded, reaching for her hand. She flinched as he took it, both pausing as his glance reached her wedding band. She took her hand back and left the room.

Tabris felt hot tears behind her eyes and she cursed herself. She stormed off to her room, passing Sten in the hallway. They slowed as they walked past each other, their eyes refusing to leave the other. 

As she reached her room with the other women, she paused at the door, watching the Qunari walk with his quiet strides. Morrigan grasped her shoulder and she jumped slightly. 

The witch murmured, “Thank the gods you are here. I can’t stand this woman’s idle chatter anymore.”

“Oh excellent, you can join us. I was just telling Morrigan about the new Chantry reforms in place. Can you imagine? The Chant of Light in all different languages, for every people. That all are saved in his eyes, even the poor. There’s this new “bottom up” approach. I feel as an elf, you would really appreciate it.”

Tabris and Morrigan exchanged a quick glance before being dragged into the room by Leliana. 

*

Long into the night, the sound of gunfire quieting as the castle grew still, Tabris found she still could not sleep. She rolled over, seeing Morrigan stir in her sleep and glance over at her.

“Is the world so heavy on your shoulders?” the Witch joked with a smirk.

Tabris said gently, “Alistair and I fought.”

“That goes without saying. The man is a moron. I hope for your own sanity you won.”

“A lot of things were said…but…”

“Warden, I heard what he said to you, when you were both leaving the hall. If he had said it to me…well, I guess I would not have been surprised. But I still probably would have turned him into a toad if I had that power.”

“That could have been useful against the Archdemon,” Tabris smiled.

“Mother called it a party trick. She despised them so. But you want to hold your power and you feel like you’ve lost it. You don’t have to give in to his whims in order to keep your standing. I hate to sound so sisterly, but you are an elven woman who has stumbled into a way of making a great difference in this world. Do not throw that away for the approval of a man. Not now, not ever.”

Tabris smiled as Morrigan rolled back over, “Now, go get some sleep. We have a long march tomorrow and we have even more imbeciles than usual to content with.”


	5. Chapter 5

When Tabris woke, Nelaros was beside her. Sleepily, she felt as if she had woken from a terrible nightmare. He shifted in his sleep, curling his arm around her. She breathed in his scent, laying securely in his arms as she heard a small cry from the other room.

Nelaros groaned as he woke and kissed her forehead, “I’ll go get her. You go back to sleep.”

Tabris sat up, yawning as Nelaros left the room in solely his boxers. It was a hot summer’s night, the fan above moving just as slowly as her breath. He returned, their daughter in their arms.

The little girl looked up at her mother and Tabris held out her arms to take the baby. She looked up at her, cooing as she curled into her mother’s chest. 

“I guess she’ll just have to sleep here with us tonight,” Nelaros said, “I’ll keep her in the middle so she doesn’t roll out.”

“If she’s old enough to crawl, I’m sure she’ll find some other way,” Tabris laughed, her daughter falling back asleep in her arms.

“Just like her mother,” Nelaros smiled, “She always finds a way.”

Tabris looked up at him, a sudden sadness passing through her. She remembered the last time she had seen his face, broken and bleeding on the concrete as they dragged her away from him.

“This isn’t real,” she said gently, tears coming to her eyes, “You’re not really here, are you? She’s not real…”

As the vision faded and the desire demon came into focus, Tabris cried out, bringing her gun out before her. She shot the creature down as it faded into the abyss around her. She fell to her knees and sobbed, wishing she had a few more minutes before she had woken up.

She would go, she would free the others and get them home. But it would have been so much easier to keep dreaming.

*  
Finally leaving the Fade, she woke with a gasp of air, coming to, surrounded by her companions. Morrigan woke next, coughing beside her. Wynne was beside her, the old woman wearing her black jumpsuit, her grey hair cut short to her head.

Alistair rose too, groaning as he lifted his body off of the floor, “Let’s go do this then, shall we?”

They gathered their weapons and continued through the lockdown, Alistair’s keycard letting them through the doors that still worked. Tabris stepped over a body of a mage clad in orange, the symbol of Andraste tattooed on his forehead.

“Even the Tranquil,” Wynne murmured to herself, “Do these blood mages hold nothing sacred?”

“If they held anything sacred, they wouldn’t allow themselves to be here,” Morrigan commented, keeping her eyes ahead.

Tabris paused, “I think I hear something.”

Tabris went ahead, pistol out front as she examined a door. She signaled for Alistair to open it and went ahead, aiming her gun at the sound. 

Instead, she found a CBI agent shrouded by a thin blue veil. She tried to touch it, but the shock sent her hand back. 

“Please,” he begged, “Please not this again. Kill me, maim me, but do not torture me so. Please don’t do this to me. Am I forgetting so much what she looks like now? Please.”

Tabris knelt down in front of him, “Whatever you think I am, I am not. I’m a Grey Warden, I’ve come to investigate the tower. Can any of you do something about this enclosure?”

Morrigan brought out her staff as the agent flinched, covering his eyes. She cast a spell with disdain, causing the barrier to fall down around them. The Agent stood, shaking. Alistair gave him his coat and the man covered himself, shaking still.

“What’s your name?” Tabris asked.

“Cullen,” He replied, “Cullen Rutherford. I don’t know how long I’ve been here…they took her from me a day ago…maybe more…I’m so confused, I’m sorry, I thought you were someone else.”

“It’s alright,” Tabris replied, “I need your help to track them down. We need to secure the tower. Can you walk?”

“You are a Warden?”

“Yes.”

“Then promise me something,” Cullen said, “Promise me you’ll take me with you. I will help you, but do not leave me here. Please.”

“Alright,” Tabris replied, ignoring the look of shock from Morrigan’s face.

“I thought we had enough Templars,” she grumbled.

“I have a suspicion his loyalty may have lain outside of the Order,” Tabris said softly.

Cullen looked down at her and she saw the tears before he could wipe them. She knew that hollowed out look. That was enough for her to trust him.

“Lead on, Cullen,” Tabris ordered, gesturing ahead, “Alistair, give him that rifle we picked up. It’s seems to be standard issue, I’m sure you know how to use it.”

Cullen laughed darkly as Alistair handed him the weapon, “I may be not in the best place for someone to give me a gun.”

“I’ll watch your back,” Tabris promised, “Now we need to get moving.”

Cullen walked behind her as the others followed. 

*  
While Cullen and Wynne both argued with their respective Commanders for leave to join the Warden, Tabris waited as Alistair phoned Teagan. The two chatted for awhile, their relief sounding apparent to her as she tried not to eavesdrop. After a week of travelling, it seemed amazing that of all the places to find a working telephone, it was in the locked down, burnt out mage prison. 

When Alistair was finished, Tabris was finally able to attempt to phone Warden regiments in other countries. She was not surprised to find that most of the lines were cut off. Telephone service was local only and even that was barely hanging together.

While the others were distracted, she phoned Valathorn’s shop in the Alienage. She waited for three rings and still no one picked up. Alistair returned then and asked, “Did you manage to get a hold of anyone?”

Tabris hung up the phone, “No. It looks like we really are on our own. Maybe I can send out a telegram…but I don’t think that will work if it is that the wires have been severed. I don’t know. I was never good at electronics. Maybe we can find someone who is.”

“We have a small army,” Alistair said, gesturing the dozen men Teagan had sent as well as their companions, “That is a good start. Once the Arl is well, we’ll have the rest of Redcliffe. As well, we do have treaties. I talked to Greagoir. He’s going to send a unit of Templars to come with us. He unfortunately cannot let any of the mages go, but he’s making an exception for Wynne. I’m not entirely sure why, but it will be good to have a healer, right?”

Alistair realized that Tabris was not really listening to him and he grew silent. 

“We need to head out,” she said, “We’ll make camp on the side of the lake and we’ll head back to Redcliffe. The roads should be clearer now. You and I will go into the town and see if there’s any news. Word about the Tower will spread…so will word of us. We need to know how much got leaked. I saw a working television at that bar we passed, we should see if we can catch a newscast.”

“Is it so bad if it is?” Alistair asked.

Tabris paused and said softly, “My face may not be as recognizable as yours, but to the right people…it’s better they still think I’m dead. Just let me leave it at that.”

“Duncan told me about you,” Alistair said, “Once, briefly. I asked him about those who survived the Treatment. He mentioned he had a woman from Denerim. Told me that he had recruited her from death row. I owe you for saving my life. But I need to know what you did. I have been honest with you, you owe me that much.”

“I don’t owe you anything,” Tabris snarled back, “I have the same right to be here as you. I may be some knife-ear bitch you rather have thrown back in the sewers, but Maker as my witness, I am a damn Grey Warden, for better or worse. I don’t owe you anything.”

“Then let me ask as a friend,” he said softer.

“I killed three men,” Tabris replied coolly, “I tried to kill another, but the bastard got away. I wish I had killed him. I would have killed more if I had needed to. I could justify it; tell you some sad tale of what it happened, everything that led to that point. But you’ll never be able to see past the fact that I’m a murderer. I heard what you said when we passed that group on the road. You already think I’m a thief, you think all of my kind are. We’ve both killed men, Alistair. I hope you as convicted in your killings as I am.”

“What happened?”

“I don’t owe you that.”

“I want to know. I want to be a better king, a true noble man.”

Tabris laughed darkly, “Let me tell you something about noble men. I didn’t kill just three ordinary men. I killed the Mayor of Denerim’s son. Shot him dead between the eyes. The proud future leader of the city? He had a thing for elves. Many noble men do. Most of them have the courtesy of at least paying.”

Alistair’s face paled, “He didn’t…”

“Men. It doesn’t matter if he got to do all he planned. It matters that he tried. I have only given myself to one man, the one I married. That was the only one I ever belonged to and I gave myself willingly. No man will ever have that power over me again.”

“Never?” Alistair asked gently.

Tabris looked at him with dawning recognition. He blushed slightly, turning his face around her.

“We have more important things to deal with,” she concluded, “Tell the men to pack their gear. We need to get out of here before the journalists land.”

*  
While the Spoiled Princess was not officially segregated, Tabris took care to borrow a headscarf of Morrigan’s to cover her ears. She and Alistair waited at the bar with locals, watching the FNN scroll through the devastation throughout the land. 

She gasped as she saw the wreckage of Lothering, the slow smoldering fires from defoliant burning through factories, chemicals bursting out into the skies. She wanted to go back to the camp, but she paused as the news report changed.

**Sources say that at least two Wardens have survived Ostagar and have been spotted in the village in the days before the destruction. Reports vary, but it is believed that one is illegitimate son Alistair Theirin and the other an elven woman approximately 20 years of age. Police remind citizens that any aiding of the Grey Wardens will be considered treason and will be dealt with as such.**

Tabris looked over at the group of men watching them from across the bar. One made to move towards them and Tabris tugged on Alistair’s arm.

“It’s time to keep moving,” she said softly.


	6. Chapter 6

The Brecilian forests, gratefully, remained much unchanged when they arrived on the way to Denerim. The troops went on foot through the forest, causing so much noise, almost none noticed the elf hiding in the tree with a silenced sniper rifle, watching Tabris pass underneath.

Tabris collapsed, falling with a gasp as the bullet passed through her chest. Morrigan formed a barrier between them, the magic holding out all others as she worked desperately to heal her wounded friend.

As Tabris coughed, she murmured, “Don’t kill them. Keep them alive.”

Morrigan promised as Tabris passed out.

*  
Tabris woke in a makeshift camp a few hours later, her chest aching as the muscles still restitched together. She coughed a few times, feeling her lungs contract and relax normally. This was good enough for her. 

She walked outside, the men looking away in discomfort as she only wore her shift. She saw the elven man chained to a post outside her tent, two men on guard with rifles pointed at him.

“Ah, the problem with the sexual mores in this country,” the elf smiled, “Flirting will not get you so far with men. Now you, I am perhaps more to your taste.”

“You’re a long way from home, Antivan,” Tabris noted, glancing at his clothing, “I assume you’re a mercenary of some sort then. A pretty damn good shot too.”

“Apparently not good enough,” the elf replied.

“Who trained you?”

“Little birdies," he joked weakly.

“You’re a Crow then. All right. Here’s the thing. I need good shots right now and I need someone to protect me if mercenaries are being sent after us. I know your life is forfeit since you didn’t kill us. You also have information you can sell to the press. So why not I pay you instead, promise you safety and amnesty when this war is over.”

He smirked, “You’re an elf like me, you can’t promise me all that.”

“Then I promise you that I’ll protect you if you protect me.”

“You are a strange woman, but I think we understand each other. I accept. You are going to meet with the Dalish, yes? I’m afraid you’re going the wrong way. They’re south of here. I broke bread with them yesterday. Poor fellows. You may not believe this, but of all things, they are plagued with werewolves.”

“Werewolves?” Tabris shook her head, “Now that is a delightful change of pace. What shall I call you, Crow?”

“Zevran. Zevran Arainai.”

Tabris pointed, “There’s a tent over there for our unlisted men. You’ll have to share with a Qunari, but he’s a pretty big pussycat. It’s probably better that you do not…umm…stay with the other men.”

Zevran nodded, “Then it is decided. Come, bring out your maps. I will show you how to reach the Dalish.”

*

The Dalish resumed their celebrations, still weary of the army camped outside their gates. The commune played their joyous songs, the new lore written of the reunification with the were-kind, their brothers and sisters in arms who would join them in their new life together apart from the evils of society. Yes they would go to war, they would fight to protect their woodlands, but tonight, they danced.

While some of the others had decided to rest with the army, Leliana, Morrigan, Zevran, and Tabris decided to take part in the celebrations. 

Tabris didn’t realize she was laughing until Morrigan pointed it out. The soft glow on her cheeks, the tinkle of giggles coming from her.

“I’ve never heard you laugh before,” Morrigan smirked, “You’re even worse than I am.”

“Everybody lived today,” Tabris said, “I know that old bastard had to die…but…no one else had to. We actually managed to succeed at something. I actually won something. I keep thinking we’re just back in the Fade.”

Morrigan slapped her face and Tabris winced, “Ow.”

Morrigan laughed, “Not in the Fade.”

Tabris reached out jokingly to hit her back, but Morrigan gave her a gentle toss with her magic to the side. At this point, Zevran made lurid faces at Morrigan until she had to laugh.

“Let me go deal with him before he makes more of a fool of himself,” the witch laughed, “He’s worse than the dog.”

Tabris smiled and she decided to get some fresh air. It was a late summer’s night, the air growing damp and humid as she made her way to the edge of the forest. She found a place to sit and fanned herself, feeling her brassiere pinch against her. She longed to ditch the heavy garments and swim in the river nearby…but she thought of the men in the camp and she felt too afraid to do so.

When she stood, trying to take her budding hair off the back of her neck, she was surprised to see Sten walking towards her. His linen shirt was unbuttoned slightly, a curly strand of silver hair sneaking out, his pants rolled up to avoid any grass stains. He seemed remarkably cool in the heat, and she craved to touch his skin like she would crave a drink of cold water.

She mentally shook her head as he reached her side. She must be drunker than she thought. 

“Warden,” Sten greeted calmly, “Are you alright?”

“It’s too hot,” she found herself complaining, “The Warden uniform is terrible, and my street clothes are all woolen and…sturdy. How can you stand this?”

“The jungles of Seheron are much hotter,” Sten replied, “You would not like it there, I imagine, if you were to swelter in this pleasant evening. It is the first time I have not felt too chilled since I have gotten here. It has felt a relief.”

“But that does not help you,” Sten continued, “What need do you have?”

Tabris smiled, “You don’t have to cater to my every whim.”

“I promised to protect you,” Sten replied, “Even if I am only protecting your modesty.”

“Oh,” Tabris sighed, “Would you watch out while I had a bath? The river is so cool, but…wait…umm…turn around.”

Tabris found herself blushing and Sten rolled his eyes.

“I will not look, Warden. Just leave your clothes here. I will make sure no drunken Dale decides to steal them.”

Tabris walked to the edge of the river, Sten finding a spot nearby to sit, turning from her as she stripped from her clothes. She sighed immediately, folding them and tossing them by Sten’s feet. 

She winced as she entered the water, the cold shocking her as her body began to cool. She sighed, letting it go up to her shoulders as the river flowed around her. She dunked her head in, letting the water drip off of her as she turned to look at Sten, who read a book patiently, occasionally glancing up at any concerning sounds.

“What are you reading?” Tabris asked.

“A rather tawdry novel from Redcliffe,” Sten frowned, “My books were all taken when I was arrested. I miss reading in Qunlat, but I thought it would be a good excuse to practice my Ferelden. Unfortunately, this was the only book the seller had.”

Tabris laughed, “I’m sure we can find you something better than that.”

“It is not without merit. I find it amusing that is how humans think a kossith man looks like naked.”

“What does he look like?“

Tabris stopped and blushed and even in the dark light, she could see the touch of a smirk on Sten’s lips. He did have a lovely face, she thought to herself, watching him turn the page. He paused, turning to glance at her and she went deeper into the water.

He turned his head again, listening to the Dalish’s loud celebrations.

“It is good to have a victory for once,” he stated, “And these forests…they should celebrate these forests while they can.”

.They had already seen the chemical wasteland of Lothering. Forested areas were decimated as Loghain’s men did the best they could to keep the darkspawn from the cities. The smell of silverite was slowly mixing with the smell of sulfur, the smell of ash. She had seen the darkspawn alight and she could not help but worry what it would do to the skin of the living. 

When Sten watched her expression, she thought he too wondered of the chemical legacy of this war, but realized that his eyes were drifting down her body. She felt as if she should blush or feel indignant, but there was gentleness to the action. An appreciation, not a demand.

He returned to his book, clearing his throat slightly as he continued.

“Is that book really so interesting?” She called out, a smirk crossing her face.

“It is keeping me from making foolish choices. We read every day in the Beresaad. It was to keep the mind as sharp as the body. I may not have been…what would you have called it, journalist, but I was still responsible for documentation and the protection of the journalists. If I am all that is left…then I must do the best I can.”

Tabris pouted slightly. That was a much more noble answer than she was hoping for.

“However,” Sten continued, “While the text is an interesting diversion, I am merely maximizing my productivity while I guard you.”

“Of course,” she smiled, “I would hate to keep you from your duty. But surely, isn’t it distracting you from your task?”

“Would you rather I not look away from you?”

“Wouldn’t it be easy to protect me if you watched?"

Sten gave a faint smirk, approaching the side of the river. He took off his boots, letting his pale grey feet enter the water. She swam to his side, gently tugging his ankle.

“Now come on,” she grinned, “If you are going to do something, you should give yourself fully to it, should you not?”

He did not remove his gaze from her as he removed his clothing down to his boxers. She flushed as he entered the water, seeing a slight chill go through his skin.

She said, touching his cheek, “You must be freezing. You should go back to camp and warm up. I’ll meet you there, I’m sure no hippies will steal my clothes.”

“I’d rather not take that chance. I am not one to shirk duty.”

Her heart raced as his hand cupped her face.

“Kadan,” he murmured, “I know of what has happened to you…I do not want this if this is not what you wish.”

“I’ve only ever been with my husband,” she said, “But I have been thinking of this. Maker, so many nights I’ve been thinking about this…I think I need to take it slower…but I want you. I want this.”

Sten brought her slowly into his arms. She leaned up, kissing him softly as the water flowed around them. His hand traced down her back, cupping her bottom, before crossing her hip touch her folds. She moaned and he glanced at her. She smiled and nodded and he slipped a finger inside of her. She held onto him tightly, her nails digging into his skin as he worked, kissing down her collarbone as his thumb reached around and stroked her swollen clit. 

She reached for him, but he gently moved her hand back to his side.

“Another day, kadan,” he murmured, nipping her neck slightly. 

As the first wave of her orgasm hit her, she allowed herself to fully give into the sensation. She cried out, his other arm holding her tightly to him. She groaned loudly, sweeping him into a hungry kiss.

As she shook around him, he cupped her face in his hand, his eyes meeting hers in a softness she had rarely seen. The second crest hit her by surprise, and she laughed, kissing him gently as they held each other in the river.

He wiped away the tear trickling down her cheek. She choked out a laugh.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

“As you wish, kadan,” he replied softly, “Whatever you need of me.”

As the music grew quieter, she said, “Let’s go back to camp. I can’t imagine why, but I feel much more tired than I have in quite awhile. Maybe I can even sleep well tonight.”

She squeezed his hand as she left the water, watching Sten’s face as he saw her naked in the moonlight. It was the closest to a real smile she had ever seen from him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> y'all know I have a weakness for the guy. Don't act surprised.


	7. Chapter 7

It would be a short trip into Denerim. The Arl’s men were left miles from the city, in case someone was to suspect an invasion. The rest of them went on foot into the city, blending in with all the others travelling city to city in the light of the war. As soon as they reached the Brother, who seemed to not answer his phone, then they would be back on the road.

Tabris repeated this speech to herself, holding herself back from the Alienage. They would leave before sunset, there would be time when this was over.

She had been careful to that point. In the days since arriving in the area, she had kept her distance from Sten in public. A brief glance was safe enough, but any more and she dared suspicion. She was worried more for his sake than hers, but she had little standing with the men and she needed to keep their opinion of her at least neutral. In the end, it only took a moment for it to all unravel. 

They had left the city, returning to another village a few miles away. They had taken residence at a tavern nearby, the dozen or so men and their companions taking refuge in local inns as the air grew thicker. There was little enough vegetation in the area. The defoliants helped show the darkspawn better, but it also made them walking targets in the thin brush.

The bar was turning tense as news reports played muted in the background. Tabris kept from the Arl’s men and remained in the corner with Leliana, playing a game of cards as the former nun retold an amusing story from Orlais involving panties nailed to a chantry board. The music grew louder over the speakers, the owner and a patron arguing over the volume, turning the dial back and forth.

Tabris squinted, the fast change back and forth getting to her head.

“You need some pain killers?” Leliana offered, rummaging through her satchel, “I used to get terrible cramps, I keep them on me now, just in case.”

“No, I’m alright,” Tabris affirmed, “I just need to get some air. Morrigan, can you sit in a hand for me?”

“If you must,” the Witch sighed, sitting in her stool, “Though I warn you, Sister, I learned poker from the Chasind. Even that sport is not free from blood.”

Tabris tried to hide a smile as Leliana paled. She made her way towards the door, pausing as she ran into a dripping wet Alistair. 

“Oh,” she said, frowning sympathetically, “I can see the weather is not improving.”

“Yes, and silverite smells even worse when wet apparently,” he smirked, “It’s good to know, eh?”

“I think I should be safe on the patio. I just need some air.”

“I’ll come with you.”

Tabris hesitated, “Alright.”

As the rain poured down on the tin roof, Alistair led her out to the covered porch. They sat together on a bench, watching the thick rain fall like a wall, blocking the view of the world from them. Thunder rumbled beneath them, though she wondered to herself it was merely another tank rolling into the forests.

She looked down at her hands, absentmindedly picking off some dirt from beneath her nails. 

“I went looking for you last night,” Alistair said, “There was something I wanted to talk to you about.”

“Oh?” She asked, surprised, “We spent most the day together, you could have said something.”

“It was more of a private thing,” he admitted, blushing slightly. He paused, nodding outside.

“It’s starting to clear up,” he gestured, “That’s nice. Maybe we’ll get some stars out yet.”

“I think I should go back in,” Tabris stated, smoothing out her pants as she stood, “I feel much better now. I should wash my uniform while I have access to running water.”

“But first,” Alistair stated, “I want to talk to you. It’ll only take a moment.”

“I’m sorry,” Tabris said, “I need to go. Please. I’ll talk to you tomorrow, I promise.”

Tabris entered the tavern, Alistair hot on her heels. She turned, watching him pull three foil packets of his jacket.

“I just wanted to ask you where these came from.”

Tabris’ eyes widened, “One of the men, surely.”

“I found them in your bag. I was looking for Duncan’s knife.”

“And you thought they would be among my tampons?” Tabris asked sarcastically, “Brilliant.”

“It’s him, isn’t it? Your bodyguard. I've seen the way he looks at you." 

“It doesn’t matter,” Tabris said, grabbing the condoms, “You had no right to go through my things.”

“You’re sleeping with him. I pegged you for many things, Private, but I never pictured you as a slut.”

Tabris went scarlet and she slapped him across the face. She ran upstairs and Alistair followed her into his room, slamming the door behind him. 

“How dare you shame me in front of all of them?” Tabris yelled at him, “You, of all people. You’re my friend, my colleague. And you called me…called me…”

“What else would you call it? You are a married woman!" 

“I'm a widow,” Tabris corrected, “If he was still alive…then only he should take issue. But Sten and I…who are we hurting? I care for him. Very deeply.”

“No Chantry would ever marry you,” Alistair replied, “A widow marrying a foreign heathen? A man of another race? Who may have come here to invade us all? What does this say about the Wardens that such a woman like you would lead us?”

“If the Qun got rid of the Blight, they’re welcome to Ferelden,” Tabris shouted, “But you. This is about you. This is because I didn’t pick you.”

Alistair blushed, his hand going to the bruise growing across his face. 

“Alistair,” Tabris said quietly, “With everything you have called me…I could never love someone who so deeply hated everything I was. You don’t love me. You would never speak to me like that if you did.”

“And he is perfect? He killed all those men, in cold blood, he doesn’t even deny it!”

“He is good. He is flawed, but he is good. He is good for me too. This is the first time I’ve felt happy since…this is the first time in months I felt like it was worth waking in the morning. I don’t give a shit if you judge me, but if you speak to me that again…”

“Then what?" He asked, "Do you think the men would pick you over me? If it came to it, they would follow me over you.” 

Tabris was silent as she stormed out of the room and back into her suite with the other women. 

As the other three looked up at her, Tabris looked to Morrigan.

“Can I take up your offer of turning him into a toad?”

Morrigan smirked, “I may have to do some more research into the topic.”

“You should be more patient with him,” Leliana said with a soft smile, “Men in love make foolish choices, say stupid things. He’ll come back in the morning with flowers and a sheepish smile, you’ll see.”

Wynne rolled her eyes, “Two Grey Wardens in the whole country and they had to be male and female. Maker, what a sense of humour you have.”

“Let me make this perfectly clear since neither of you two Chantry girls seem to get it,” Tabris said, pointing at them both, “I do not love Alistair. I never will. I try to be his friend, I try to be his colleague. Quit trying to make this a romantic comedy. There is no big Chantry wedding for you to all throw rice at. Do we understand each other?”

Morrigan chuckled, “You should have got the Dales to marry you and your lover right there and then, would have solved a lot of this trouble with Alistair.”

Tabris blushed and the other two looked back at Morrigan. Morrigan laughed, “Do they really not know? Do they think you sneak away to pine after Alistair in the moonlight and come back with your cheeks flushing and your hair astray?”

“Well,” Wynne said hesitantly, “I suppose the elf has his faults…but he is one of your kind. I could see why the attraction could be there. Perhaps it’s not so bad. And at least you’re being careful. He’d make a terrible husband or father.”

Morrigan bit her lip, trying not to smirk. Tabris shot her a dirty look. 

Leliana paled, “The Qunari? That’s who he meant? That…how does that even work?”

Tabris covered her face with her hands, grumbling, “Morrigan…I’m going to kill you.”

Wynne explained, “Really dear, it’s not that difficult, it’s a matter of position, that is all.”

Tabris turned, “I’m going to leave now while you speculate without me.”

“No, wait,” Leliana said, “Don’t go. I’m sorry. It’s just…there really can’t be a future in that, can there? You can’t marry him. And…well…he’s…not…how would those children even look?”

“You cannot throw your duty away for him,” Wynne said softly.

“And I could for Alistair?” Tabris frowned, “This is none of your business. I…I can’t be here right now. I’m sorry.”

Morrigan rose, regret crossing her face, but she did not speak before Tabris had left the room. 

She found Sten in the courtyard outside, teaching two children how to spar. One of them attempted to stab his arm with the wooden sword and Sten scooped the child up, holding him away from him.

“You’re cheating!” The child accused.

“The enemy will use all of its assets. You will have to learn to master all of yours.”

Tabris cocked her head and Sten let the child down to his feet. The child kicked Sten in the shin, causing the man to wince.

“Very good,” he grumbled, “Now go practice.”

Sten walked over to her side as she stifled her giggle.

“Children in this country,” Sten stated, “Do not know any classic weaponry. Some have never even seen a knife never mind a sword. You must train the young while they are still able to learn.”

“I had no training and I turned out well.”

“You fight best with a pistol, that is not useful when the enemy is so close.”

“You would not dare to attack me,” Tabris replied, looking up at him with a soft smile. 

“Your touch has a deadly effect on me,” Sten replied, “I am not that foolish of a man to try.”

“Only a little foolish?”

“All I dare to be."

Tabris bowed her head and Sten frowned, watching her expression closely.

“Did he touch you?” Sten asked coolly.

“No,” Tabris said, shaking her head, “Nothing happened. I’m alright.”

Sten growled, “He has hurt you.”

“Sten,” Tabris said softly, “Please. I’m okay. Please don’t give him any more reason to-“

“It was about me,” Sten said, his voice growing softer.

“It was about him,” Tabris replied, “This…this is nothing to do with us.”

“One day,” Sten said, ire growing in his voice, “You may not be alright. And I…I will not hold back if that day comes.”

Her hands cradled one of his, “Calm down, kadan.”

His face softened and his other hand went to clasp her cheek, “Let us return indoors. There is much I want to say that is for no other ears.”

She longed to kiss him right there and then, but fear still crept through her. She did not fear for herself, for the words that would be hurled at her, for the abuse that she might face. She had gone through that before.

But he…he was proud and strong and brave. She knew he would deal with any scorn silently, any hurt lying too deep for even her to touch. 

*  
They did not bother to pause when returning to the inn, to give the allusion that they had arrived separately. As she locked the door behind them, Sten was oddly gentle, kissing her neck as he disrobed her. 

He pushed her against the door, his fingers curling around her damping locks, one slipping inside of her. She groaned as he leaned into her, his mouth sucking on her neck as he worked inside her. She came quickly, a brief groan coming from her lover’s lips as his pulled his hand away. She turned, seeing him still fully dressed and waiting for her move.

She kissed him softly, slowly unbuttoning his shirt as he stood still. He leaned into kiss her as she slid his shirt off, only breaking the kiss as she slipped the undershirt over his head.

“What is your wish, kadan?” Sten asked softly, his hand resting on the small of her back.

She murmured, “I need to be on top of you. I need to feel like I…I’m in control.”

“As you wish,” he replied, kissing her cheek before reaching to take off his belt. His other hand returned to her sex, stroking her lips as he undressed. He parted from her momentarily to open a packet and roll the latex down his erection. 

Naked, he picked her up in his arms, carrying her over to the bed. She nuzzled into his neck and for the first time, she felt him nuzzle back. As he laid them down on the bed, he murmured to her in Qunlat and she let the words wash over her. She did not need a literal translation, she knew what he meant, she understood the widening of his eyes, his fingers firm against the skin of her back. 

Tabris lowered herself into his lap, taking him into her in a slow, steady pace. Seated, she kissed him, his hands running into her budding hair, tugging on it as she began to move. He took a breast into his mouth, looking up at her as she looked down at him with half closed eyes, feeling the tension already growing in her again.

As she moaned and bucked against him, he growled, nipping at her breast as he sucked. She put her arms around him, holding onto him tightly. He let go of her breast, looking up at her as he bit his lip.

She ran her hands into his hair, holding and pulling onto his braids as he gave a satisfied smile. They kissed fiercely, devouring each other as she cried out. He cupped her face as she rode him still, the shaking of her body causing him to lose focus and close his eyes.

She kissed him again as he came, a small wince crossing his face as he held her close to him. He shifted from her to throw the sheath in the trash and then he laid down beside her, pulling her into his arms.

She looked up at him tiredly and murmured, “What will we do when the war is over? If it’s ever over?”

“You will come with me to Seheron and have my child,” Sten said softly, his hand stroking her jawline. 

“But it is far too hot in Seheron,” Tabris complained, turning on her side so he could not see her expression. 

“And Ferelden stinks of wet dog,” Sten responded, “I will buy you one of these new air conditioners and you will have no excuse.”

Tabris went quiet and Sten murmured into her ear, “We will find a way. You always do, kadan. Your Chantry will not recognize it…perhaps my people will not understand, but you are…bound to me. As I am bound to you. That is stronger than anything else.”

“You’ve become almost romantic,” Tabris teased.

“I have sworn my life to you,” Sten replied, “You are my duty. If this is what you need, then this is how I shall be. Whatever your wish, I will provide.”

She nuzzled into him, “Right now, I need to sleep.”

“Then sleep, kadan. I will not leave you tonight.”


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last chapter that Alistair is a jerk, I promise you. I PROMISE.

“Stop,” Alistair ordered.

Tabris turned, watching her two dozen men stop in the snow. She turned her head to face Alistair and she froze as the gun rose in front of her.

She put her hands up and her voice trembled, “Alistair, what are you doing?”

“I’m doing what I should have done from the start,” he replied shakily, “We have the ashes now. We have the men. When we cure the Arl, I will lead us into battle. They need a real leader. A king. So step down, Private. Step down before I force you down.”

“Alistair,” Tabris pleaded, her hands trembling, “We’re partners. You know that. There are only two of us in this entire country. We’ve survived together. Please…”

Tabris’ heart nearly stopped when she heard the safety click off. She cried out when she heard the gunshot, feeling the bullet whiz past her. She opened her eyes, seeing Sten wrestling Alistair into the snow, the blood mixing among the cold.

Sten rose, knocking Alistair to the ground once more.

Sten spat out blood and growled, “Touch her and die.”

Alistair rose as Sten went to her side, a protective arm resting around her waist. She looked up at him softly, seeing the ire still burn in his eyes.

“It’s okay,” Tabris murmured, “Calm down. Please. I’m okay.”

Sten looked down at her and let out his breath, “Lead us, kadan. You have gotten us this far, bring us forward.”

“The army will go south to Redcliffe and bring the Ashes. The rest will go North. We have little time to reach Orzammar. Move out,” she ordered.

*  
When they reached the Deep Roads, they knew they should leave the others near the surface. The Blight was spreading quickly through the Dwarven population and only they were immune. 

So it was only Alistair and Tabris, alone in the endless dark, walking as far as they could from the other as they searched for the Thiag.

It seemed hours before one spoke to the other, Alistair finally breaking first.

"I'm sorry," he said quietly, "I've been letting my own feelings get all tangled up in this. If I wanted command, I should have done it earlier before we even made it to Lothering. I just...I got this idea in my mind, you know. I felt like an idiot. You've been a better commander than I ever could be. Just when we were in Redcliffe, I guess I just listened to people who kept telling me I was less of a man for following you, that I was some weakling who needed an elven woman to lead me around. And I didn't care at first, because I cared about you...then I was jealous and even stupider...I've been an ass and I'm going to try to be better."

Tabris murmured, "You were raised to believe I was barely sentient and that women do not belong on the battlefield. You are not responsible for how you were raised, Alistair, but you are responsible for your conduct. I do accept your apology and I believe that you are sincere. But you need to know that I don't think I can trust you. Not yet. I thought you were going to shoot me. I really did."

Alistair asked, "Do you love him?"

Tabris laughed, trying not to cry, "Is that what you care about? What, were you hoping that-"

She caught her breath and said, "It doesn't matter. But what matters is that you and I need to work together. So...let's try."

She stuck her hand out and he shook. 

*

It was nearly a week before they made it back to the city, filthy and exhausted. Alistair went ahead to camp and Tabris found her way to a tavern, once again trying Valathorn's shop in the Alienage.

And for the first time in months, she heard the phone click on.

"Hello?"

“Valathorn,” Tabris breathed a sigh of relief, “You’re answering. I’ve tried so many times.”

“Louie?” He asked in shock, “We thought you were dead. How…how the hell are you? Where are you?”

“I’m in Orzammar…it’s a long story. Can you get a hold of Dad? I want to let him know that I’m alright.”

“…Louie…”

Tabris leaned against the wall, holding the phone close to her ear, “What’s wrong?”

“There’s…there’s been a nasty flu going around. It’s not like a regular bug, it’s been wrecking through the Alienage. After all the riots, I guess we were so vulnerable…listen I can’t talk long. Your dad though, he’s been sick for near a week now. There’s a hospital been set up, he’s gone in. It…it doesn’t look good, girl. I don’t know if you can get back…but I would try if I were you. I’m so sorry.”

Tabris bit back her tears and nodded, “Thank you. I better…I better let you go. Take care of yourself, alright?”

“Be safe, girl.”

Tabris hung up the phone, turning over to Alistair who waited patiently. 

“I need to go back to Denerim,” she said quietly.

“We were going to rendezvous in Redcliffe with Eamon. We need to strategize about the Landsmeet. This is important. I hate politics as much as you, but we can’t just march straight into Denerim without a plan.”

“This isn’t about that. My dad…my dad is sick. He could be dying and he’s alone. I need to go to him. I need to see him again. I will go first, just a small group. They won’t recognize me. They’ll see just another elf.”

Alistair paused, running his hand through his hair, “Go. Take Zevran, he’ll keep you safe. I need the rest with me. The news is spreading quickly, the bigger the group you have, the easiest you’ll be to spot. Leave Sten with me. A Qunari doesn’t exactly blend in the streets well.”

She replied, “I’ll call you when we reach Denerim. Can you handle everything?”

“We’ll be alright. Go quickly. You don’t know how much time you’ve got.”


	9. Chapter 9

Tabris and Zevran hitchhiked most of the way to Denerim. Many elves were heading towards the city, hoping to find protection in elven neighbourhoods as racial tensions grew. Yet when they made it to the city, they found the Alienage under quarantine. The group of 12 they travelled with made a makeshift camp outside the gates with other elves, sleeping in shifts to protect the rest. 

When it grew dark, Tabris and Zevran broke their way in, knocking out a sleepy guard. Tabris covered her mouth at the smell of built up trash and stale silverite. Zevran placed his hand on his gun as they walked forward.

"I've got a really bad feeling about this," Zevran said. 

"We'll see what we can find out," Tabris said, "If the Blight has actually made it here, you get out and leave me here. I can't get sick."

"If you are here, I am here," Zevran replied, "I'll be fine."

"We'll go to my father's house," she said, "I'm not sure if...I'm sure someone is squatting in my house or it's been sold by now."

"Lead on."

Tabris wrapped Morrigan's headscarf over her hair and ears, walking through the near empty streets. Zevran walked a few paces behind until they reached the little blue house. The door was open.

Tabris went inside first, calling out for her father. She froze, seeing a rather thin Shianni come forward, her hand to her mouth.

"You're alive," she whispered.

Tabris ran forward and held her cousin to her, kissing her all over her face.

"I'm sick," Shianni protested.

"I'm immune," Tabris explained, "It's okay. Where's Papa?"

"He's in the hospice," Shianni said, "They've been bringing people in all week. The phone lines are down, I've only gotten word of mouth. He was still alive yesterday, but he's not been doing well. It may not be much longer."

"How are you?"

"I'm on the mend," Shianni smiled weakly.

"Has anyone recovered?"

"A few," she said, "But no one who has gone into the hospice has come out...I'm worried, Louie. I've heard rumours of people being taken from the cities. I've wanted to find out more, but I'm just...I'm too sick. My husband is at your old house, with a few of the others who are still healthy. Your friend might want to stay there."

"Tonight I will," Zevran said, "But I will accompany the Warden as long as she needs me" 

"So it is true," Shianni smiled, "My cousin the hero."

Shianni shook slightly and Tabris helped her to the couch.

"Rest," Tabris promised, "I'll come home tonight and take care of you. I just have to see Papa first."

"They won't let you in," she said tiredly.

"We'll see."

****

It was not hard to convince the doctors to allow her into the hospice. According to their readings, she had all the signs of the Blight. Zevran waited outside, allowing her to walk in alone and unarmed.

But the moment she was inside, she knew. This was no hospital. She saw the elves chained to the walls, the tag around their necks. She had heard rumours of indentured servitude still in the north, but now she saw.

A Tevinter man tried to grab her and she punched back, grabbing the gun from his holster. She shot him through the heart and turned, shooting the next between the eyes. The third tried to run off to the back entrance and she shot him between the shoulders, stepping over him to open the door for Zevran.

She started unlocking the elves from the walls and Zevran took off as she looked through the rooms for her father. She saw Valathorn and knelt beside him, touching his shoulder.

"I'm going to get you out," she promised, "Where's my father?"

"They've been processing us," he said tiredly, "Before they cure us, we have to sign a contract. They've got trucks in the back. He left a few hours ago. I don't know, love. He might be half way to Tevinter by now."

Tabris rose, "I have to find him."

She ran out and Zevran paused.

"I'm going after them," she ordered, "Stay here and get these people to safety. I'll move faster on my own. Go."

Tabris strapped the gun through her belt and ran out the back, running through the apartment complex as she followed the trails of blood. She broke down a door in the basement, shooting the two men guarding the hall. 

She took their guns and ammo, strapping them into her belt and reloading the guns. She went forward, holding the first gun out front. She heard screams and she went forward slowly, opening the next door as quietly as she could. 

She saw the leader bark out orders to the others, saw the elves in cages, groups of twenty at a time loaded into envoys, driving off towards the highways. She knelt down, aiming the best she could without a scope. Then she shot him through the chest.

He fell and chaos erupted. An elven man managed to knock his captor from him and another grasping a guard's gun. Tabris got a few more shots in, pushing through the chaos to get to the last transport truck. She shot out the tires, tossing the empty gun on the ground before grabbing the second.

She knocked out the guard at the back and helped others get out, cutting their hands free. She saw her father, lying unconscious at the back. She threw him over her shoulder, hearing sirens. She looked out, seeing the DPD out in force, ordering the slavers to surrender. One saw her and she ran, holding her father to her. She did not stop until she reached her father's home, falling to her knees as she wheezed to catch her breath. Shianni carried Cyrion over to the couch, lying him down as his eyes fluttered.

Tabris sat beside him, holding his hand as the neighbourhood filled with police officers, as gunshots filled the air. He squeezed her hand, recognizing her with a smile. 

"I'm here, Papa," she said softly, "Get some rest."

****

Tabris was in the kitchen preparing breakfast when she heard the loud knock against the door. She sighed, turning off the stove. She had been waiting for this.

She went willingly to the door and opened it, blinking as reporter's cameras went off. The officer came inside and she offered her wrists.

She heard a few reporters blurt out questions, most of which she barely heard. She lowered her head as she was brought into the squad car.


	10. Chapter 10

Tabris was stripped naked and tossed into a cell. She shivered as a bucket of water was tossed on her, the guards laughing at her shivering form. They eventually left her, allowing her to wrap herself in a thin blanket on her cot. She sighed in relief. She had gotten off lucky, considering. 

She looked up in shock as the door opened and a naked Alistair was tossed in beside her. His eye was swollen and he crawled towards her. She knelt to the ground, tossing the blanket around him as the door was slammed shut.

"You're alive," he whispered, then blushed, realizing they were both naked.

"You're freezing," she said, "Stay close to me."

He put his arm around her, "Are you okay?"

"They've left me alone," she said, "How did they catch you?"

"We were ambushed," he explained, "I gave myself up. The others are still at the Estate, they should be okay. There was a rumour that Queen Anora-well, it doesn't matter now. We're both stuck here now."

"And Sten?" She asked fearfully.

"Safe," Alistair promised awkwardly.

She rested her head on his shoulder, wrapping the blanket so less of their skin touched. 

"What happens if we can't get out of here?" Tabris asked.

"We'll get out," Alistair said, "They'll negotiate for our release. They're more likely to get you out, they'll assume I'm the leader. And if you get out, you get out of Denerim. Don't bother about the politics. We need a Grey Warden alive in this country."

"I'm not leaving you," Tabris swore, "I made a promise."

Their eyes met, a moment of understanding passing between them. 

"Please," he said softly, "I know I've been an idiot this whole time. But I'm trying."

"I know," she said, "Hopefully...hopefully it doesn't come to that."

****

They laid back to back on the cot. Alistair snored away, taking up most of the bed. Tabris laid silently, trying not to shiver. She stirred as the door opened and she touched Alistair's shoulder, trying to wake him up.

She glanced up, immediately recognizing the fourth man, the one who had shot Nelaros. She sat up, holding the blanket around her as Alistair rose to his feet. He gestured for her to stand behind him, but she was too scared to move. 

"I see the little whore is not totally against human men after all."

Two other guards pushed Alistair back against the wall and he struggled against them. Nelaros' killer tossed her to the floor, ripping the blanket from her. He grinned, glancing down her body. 

She tried to push him away and Alistair managed to knock one of his captors aside, almost managing to reach her. Alistair pushed off the shooter, only for him to be knocked across the jaw. Alistair stumbled, trying to catch his balance. 

Tabris screamed out, fighting as she was knocked to the ground. His hands were all over her and she went numb, hearing Alistair yell as he tried to tackle her attacker. 

“Enough,” a deep voice growled out from the shadows.

Tabris’ heart beat harder than before, tears streaming down her face as the doors were opened, the guards pinning Alistair to the bars as a figure entered the cell. 

“Take him to F Block,” the man ordered, “I can handle her on my own.”

Tabris looked up as the others left, too scared to move from her spot. She huddled, trying to cover her body the best she could.

She looked up as the man knelt before her, putting his large jacket around her shoulders. She gasped slightly when she realized it was Loghain. She shuffled back and he put his hands in the air.

“Be calm, Warden,” he said softly, “I am not here to hurt you. You will be given a fair trial as will your companion. When I saw what was happening on the security feed…I could not let it continue. You may think me many a thing and you may still hate me when I leave this room, but I do hate a man who hates women.”

“You stop rapists but not slavers?” Tabris smirked weakly, “Well, if it helps you sleep at night.”

Loghain replied, “I don’t have to account to anyone but the Maker. He will judge me…as he should. But…this was…unnecessary. Have any of the other guards attempted…”

She shook her head, “A few grabs and leers, but he protected…”

Tabris started shaking and Loghain looked visibly pained.

“I will have you moved to another block and given fresh clothing. I will send a female nurse over to wash you and examine you. If you will permit it.”

Tabris nodded, eyes wide as Loghain stood. She offered his jacket back, but he shook his head.

“Keep it. It grows cold at night now. It is good to meet you, Warden, though I wish it had been under better circumstances.”

*  
Tabris went to bed that night on a hard mattress, a thin blanket, and Loghain’s jacket around her shoulders. It was a strange sense of pity that washed through her as she crept into the Fade. And a strange sense of…she didn’t know yet, she couldn’t understand the feeling that passed through her.

She reached into the pockets of the jacket, surprised as cold metal fell into her hands. As she lifted the item up, she knew even in the dark that Loghain had given her back her wedding ring.

She put it back on, tossing onto her side. She closed her eyes and begged for sleep to take her.

*  
She woke as her cell door opened and a light was shone into her eyes. She blinked, recognizing Cullen. He gave her a dutiful nod as he offered a hand out to her.

“Come on,” he said, “Your bail has been posted. You can’t leave the city yet, but at least we can get you out of this Maker-forsaken place.”

“They let you back here?”

“I still officially work for the Chantry. I can get anywhere.”

“And Alistair?” 

“The guards are bringing him out. I thought I’d bring you out myself. They think you’re the less dangerous of the two, one Templar should be able to handle you.”

Tabris smirked, “Do you think I am?”

Cullen laughed, “I know far better than them. Though luckily for me, you seem to rather like me. I’ll take my chances.”

They exited through the front, Cullen shielding her from most of the press as she was led towards the town car. She saw a few elves in the crowd, their heads bowed almost in reverence to her. She could overhear a reporter, facing a camera, and she looked up into the lens, smirking. 

She turned back, seeing Alistair brought out behind her. She was let into the car first and he second. Once they were further away, he held her, kissing the top of her head. She sighed in relief.

"We're okay," she reassured, "We're okay." 

*

 

Tabris knew she should not go to see him before the Landsmeet. Security was tight at the royal palace, but she was an elven woman, it was not difficult for her to slip among the crowd. Even her face had been plastered over the news, many humans would take long enough to recognize her that she had time to pass them.

He did not seem surprised as she entered his room, head down with a towel over her arm.

Loghain smirked as she reached out, jacket in hand.

“Thank you,” she said softly.

He nodded and as she turned to go, he said sternly, “Wait.”

“I have watched your progress for some time,” he said, “I was once told that a man is made by the quality of his enemies. I do not know if that is a compliment to me or to you. I know you will back your Warden, regardless of his faults. But I think, Warden, I know enough of you to know you understand a man is not made of noble blood.”

“So should I support you instead?” She asked, eyebrow raised.

“You should do what is right for our country. If you win, that may mean my death. I accept that. But I intend to win, Warden.”

“And so do I,” she replied, leaving the room as the door closed behind her. She paused, resting against the door for a second, head still down. 

“Damn it,” she cursed to herself and made her way back to the Arl’s estate.


	11. Chapter 11

Alistair and Tabris exited the town car together, Arl Eamon following behind them. The press filed on both sides of their path, shouting questions they both refused to answer. She was wearing her Grey Wardens dress uniform, but he was wearing the golden attire of a king. Yet he let her walk just ahead of him, letting her lead.

They were frisked by security before being allowed into the assembly hall. The Wardens were allowed a table, the House of Lords facing them on both sides, while Queen Anora faced them from her throne. Loghain sat beside her. The Speaker of the House sat in front of them. As the opposition, the Wardens sat last.

Alistair tapped his microphone, feedback buzzing through the hall. Tabris gently removed his hand, putting it back on the table. Eamon addressed the Speaker of the House, going through the traditional rites, but both Wardens had little idea what was happening and waited nervously, trying not to look towards the news cameras.

"Private Luthien Tabris of the Grey Wardens," Eamon said, gesturing to her, "Is living testament to the crimes of Loghain. Survivor of Ostagar, she has sworn fealty to the rightful king of Ferelden, protecting him with her very life. If it pleases the House, I bring her force as witness." 

Tabris took a deep breath as she began, "I was there when King Cailian died on the field with his men. For the past few months, I have protected your rightful king from certain death. I have fought for him, bled for him. I have seen the man Alistair Theirin is and I have seen the treachery of Loghain. I have seen the destruction of our lands, the forests burning, the elven people sold from their homes."

She saw a camera zooming in on her and she tried to look away, feeling awkward.

"I submit to the House testimonies of other witnesses and of signed documents showing Loghain's crimes. There is corruption in your ranks that cannot be overlooked."

The Speaker of the House signaled to a Bann, who spoke into his microphone. 

He barked, “And this woman dares speak to us this way? She is an elf, a woman. She probably can’t even write her own name. What right does she have to make these decisions for our country?”

Tabris looked up at the men and women of the Landsmeet. She leaned into the microphone, it buzzing as she sat too close. She looked up at Loghain while she said, “I am a Grey Warden. By your own laws, my race and sex do not matter. In times of Blight, my people are the Generals of your armies. Well, now I am the second most Senior Grey Warden in our entire country. I am because I have survived. Because your Alienage taught me to survive. Your blood does not make you better than me. My blood makes me stronger than you.”

A quiet murmur went through the crowd and she could swear she saw a small smirk cross Loghain’s face.

“I call for a vote. Decide based on what your common people need. Vote on what will save us. We must fight together,” Tabris finished. 

As the votes were written down and collected, Tabris waited, watching as the journalists pushed in around her, one commenting to his viewers how stoic she looked, how articulate she sounded. How surprising for one of her status. 

Alistair turned to look at her and she willed herself to meet his gaze. She fought the urge to run from the room, to find Sten who had not been allowed in the Chamber. She glanced over at Cullen, his hand resting on his holster.

She heard the echo of murmuring and shouts before the Speaker of the House came forward.

"Six votes for, six against." 

She tried to ignore the flutters of the journalists nearby, blinking as one took her picture. Alistair touched her hand quickly before shifting away. 

Loghain waved Tabris to walk to his seat behind the Speaker. The microphones were silenced as the Arls and Banns argued loudly, threatening each other with raised hands.

“Let this be you and I, as it was always meant to be,” he called out. 

“What do you mean?” Tabris asked, standing. 

“If you want my seat, come and take it, Warden.”

She exchanged a glance with Alistair and asked, “What are the terms?”

“The two of us," Loghain said, walking towards her, "Pistols with a single shot at dawn. No seconds. You may pick a champion, but I have a feeling you will face me yourself.”

“That doesn’t seem quite fair, you’ll be much harder to take down with a single shot.”

“Aye, but I am also a bigger target.”

She smirked and stuck out her hand, “I agree.”

The roar of the audience was too loud for her to hear as Loghain announced their duel to the crowd. Tabris watched as the television cameras rolled, as the photographs were snapped. 

The peace was held for now, the noble lords going out to make wagers, to make alliances were there could be. She knew the odds would be against her, she knew no one thought she could kill him. 

Alistair whispered to her, "It should be me."

"I can't risk your life further," she replied quietly, "I'm a good shot. I'll be okay."

As she left the Chamber, she saw the news had reached Sten before she could tell him what she had done. He marched towards her, practically snarling. 

“Maybe you should take a picture too,” she said softly, “I’m sure the Arishok would not want to miss this part of the Blight.”

Sten had taken great care not to touch her in public, not to let his gaze rest on her too long. But in that moment, he grasped her wrist. He did not speak as he led her from the building, shoving her into a cab as the press snapped photos of them.

Sten barked out an address to the driver and shut the partition in between. Tabris waited tentatively, watching his face as the ire grew in his eyes. 

When they arrived, Sten tossing cash at the driver, he dragged her from the cab, his fingers digging now into her wrist. She glanced around, seeing the topless women mill around the tables, winking at them both as Sten led her into a bedroom, locking the door behind him. 

“Sten,” she murmured. He growled and pushed her against the door, ripping her skirt and nylons from her legs. She cried out as his rough hand held the back of her head, holding her against him as he unzipped his pants and tore her bloomers off. 

He bit into her neck and he pushed him into her. She screamed out, throwing her arms around him as he pummeled into her. She dug her nails into his shirt, ripping through the fabric until she could get to his skin. His other hand reached to cup her ass, his fingers digging down until they touch her other pucker of skin. She cried out in shock, his mouth moving to hers in a hungry kiss. She melted into the sensation, her body tensing, building towards the peak of her pleasure.

Sten slowed his movement, his hand moving to cup her cheek. The slow movements were torturous, and she wanted to beg him to let her come but she worried any words she spoke would anger him further.

He said softly, “I love you.”

She began to cry softly, a smile crossing her face as she murmured, “Now? Now you tell me-“

He stopped her with a kiss, his movements quickening again, his hands holding her neck and hip, holding her to him as they shook and cried into each other, kissing each other fiercely as they came together.

As the moment faded and they saw each other again, Tabris started to laugh. Sten’s face softened into a rare smile as he pulled her into his arms and into the bed. He held her, stroking her hair as they looked up at each other in adoration.

“Why are we at a bordello?” Tabris smirked.

“I have spent many years at what I do. Prostitutes do not share secrets. Such as the famous Warden spending a night with her Qunari bodyguard.”

“I don’t care who knows,” she said softly.

“Kadan,” he replied, his hand stroking her jaw, “You may survive tomorrow. You may care then. I offer to take your place, but I know you will refuse. I will not force the issue. You are a woman of honour. I know this.”

“I would have gone to Seheron with you,” she said softly.

“Perhaps there will still be time yet.”

He kissed her and she softened to his body as they moved together. They made love slowly, deliberately, and for a few moments, only they existed.


	12. Chapter 12

Tabris walked past the corded off area, the City Guard allowing both her and Alistair to pass. There was minimal press in the courtyard, most barricaded by the city police. Other nobles watched from nearby, watching Tabris with great interest. Alistair pulled her to the side.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" He asked.

She nodded, patting him on the back. She went forward, seeing Loghain standing away from her, loading his pistol. She glanced up at her companions, her hands shaking as she prepared. 

"Five paces," Loghain barked, "If you're ready, Warden."

Tabris shook before turning from him. She counted her steps, her finger resting on the trigger. At the fifth, she turned on her heel and aimed at his heart. Too late, she realized the pistol veered to the right. She dodged left, rolling as she saw the damage she had done.

The press pushed in around the body, but Tabris pushed them away as she saw Loghain bleeding on the ground. She cradled his head as he looked up at her.

She hissed, “Say you surrender.”

“You have won, Warden,” he murmured, his eyes closing, “Let me die in peace. Make sure Anora is safe. She is a grown woman, I know, but she is my little girl. Daughters always have pigtails and skinned knees…”

“Damn it, Loghain,” Tabris cursed, “Say you damn surrender. Do it now.”

Loghain met her eyes as he said softly, “I surrender.”

Tabris said loudly enough for the press to hear, “I accept your surrender. Let the medical team treat your wounds. As Champion, I have won the power to break the tie. Loghain will be trialed this afternoon and sentenced shortly.”

The press followed her, demanding a statement further until Sten pushed a journalist away, putting his arm protectively around her. 

“Are you injured?” He asked.

“My shoulder got winged,” she admitted, “I’ll have Wynne look at it later.”

“We will go now, kadan. The sooner you are off the street, the better I will feel. Some will not be so pleased you did not finish him.”

Sten did not have to say who he meant.

*  
Alistair was furious at her and she left him behind in the car when she went to see Loghain in prison. The same guards who threatened to beat her to death held the door open for her now. 

Loghain sat on the bench, his wounds dressed and his arm hung from his shoulder. He glanced up at her as she closed the cell door and leaned against it.

"Why did you miss on purpose?" She asked.

"I did nothing-"

She said firmly, "You turned around first. You're better with firearms than me. There was no way you would have only hit my shoulder unless that was what you were trying to do. Did you want me to win?" 

Loghain hesitated and said quietly, "I knew you were the better man...woman. I've known that for some time now. If the country were brave enough to listen to you, they would be better for it. I never wanted to kill you. This way I had a chance to protect you."

"I've heard they've elected to make you a Warden," Tabris said.

Loghain said, rubbing his arm, "Your prince has already given me the treatment. The announcement will be made this evening. I imagine he isn't thrilled with the prospect."

"I'm not either," she admitted.

Loghain leaned forward, "There was a Warden in Howe's captivity. He was...tortured for some time. We needed information on how to stop the Blight. I am afraid he did not survive the experience."

"Don't tell Alistair," she sighed. 

"I need to tell you," Loghain continued, "I know how the Archdemon dies. I've known for weeks. I knew that...one of us will die when the beast is slain, whoever is closest to it. When I found out...I cannot risk losing the Theirin bloodline. So it would be you who died. So I couldn't shoot you. But now..."

Tabris stepped back, "You're offering to die for me."

"I'm telling you I will," Loghain said, rising slowly, "I am an old man and one who has nearly destroyed everything he holds dear. If I fall first, then you will still die. But at least now there is a chance, Warden. Take it. If you have any respect for me, take it."

"I have to go," she murmured, "I can't-"

She left, her hands shaking. She held it together until she made it to the town car. Once she sat down, she started to cry. Alistair squeezed her hand.

"If he wants to die," he murmured, "Let him. He's not worth your pity."

*

Tabris laid on the bed beside Sten as he watched the press release. She heard the gasps from the crowd, knowing that Loghain had stepped upon the platform.

Sten stroked her hair and said softly, "Of all the resources in the world, kadan, life is the most valuable. You have done the best you can. There is honour in that."

"I just want to go to sleep," she whispered, "Can we not talk about this?"

He turned off the TV and laid beside her, holding her close. She closed her eyes and willed herself to go into the Fade.


	13. Chapter 13

The shrill of the Archdemon's cry made Tabris jump out of the bed, her heart pounding, her body dripping in sweat.

"It's here," she gasped as Sten stirred beside her, "Right now. Denerim is being invaded. Find Alistair, keep him safe. I need to get to the prison. Phone whoever you need to, get the word out, right now."

He kissed her before grabbing his clothes and running out the door. Tabris threw on her uniform, zipping her wedding ring into place. She ran down the stairs, hearing the other patrons scurry towards the windows, gazing at the eerily green light. The madam threw her a set of keys and Tabris ran out to the parking lot, finding the owner's motorcycle just near the front door.

Tabris started up the engine and tore through the streets. She swerved, avoiding a collapsed telephone pole. She shifted into second, roaring up towards the jail. Tabris could hear the roar of the dragon even through her tires, but she did not dare to look up at the sky. She practically tossed the bike upon arrival, running inside. 

She drew out her pistol, walking slowly into the darkened halls. She heard a radio hum nearby and she went towards it. She fiddled with the nobs until the signal came in clearer.

**This is a message for all residents of Denerim and surrounding area. Darkspawn have breached the walls of the city. All residents are advised to evacuate their homes and take shelter in their ward's bomb shelter. If you are unable to reach your shelter, remain indoors and protect yourself. Remain calm and keep your radio on for further instructions.**

She turned it off and walked forward. She heard a genlock and she whipped around, shooting it dead between the eyes. There were more approaching and in the dim light, she could see more of the creatures coming towards her, climbing over the bodies of the dead.

"Get down!"

Tabris dropped and rolled to the side, hearing the grenade hit the ground. She pulled her collar over her mouth, coughing as the gas filtered through the air. She stood, weakly, seeing Zevran standing in front of her. He dragged her into the next block, locking the gate behind them.

"The next block is clear," Zevran said, clearing his throat, "But the Archdemon's guarding the rooftop, most of the place has been wiped out already."

"Where is Alistair?" Tabris asked.

"Safe," Zevran promised, "Loghain is alive, he's resting in a cell just down there. I got him out as soon as I could."

"Wait, what are you doing here?" Tabris asked in confusion.

Zevran grinned sheepishly, "I was having a few drinks, a little dancing, and well, one thing lead to another and I ended up having accommodations here for the evening. The Maker has a strange sense of humour, what can I say? I guessed you would show up soon, Sten radioed in when you left the Pearl. Funny I didn't run into you, that is where I started my evening off-"

"How many people do we have?"

Zevran shrugged, "Not many. The darkspawn have torn through this place. If there were another dozen survivors, I'd be surprised. We have weapons. Machine guns. Swords. Anything you could want."

"We need to get to the roof and we need to kill it," Tabris instructed, "Do we have anything more...explosive?"

Loghain called out, "On the roof."

They walked down to him, the man rising slowly from the bench.

"There are two experimental bomber jets on a hangar on the roof. The darkspawn may have gotten to them already, but I doubt it since the three of us are still alive," Loghain continued, "Most of our aircraft was downed in Ostagar or elsewhere in the South. But there are two very large high intensity chemical weapons up there. We go up, we set one off. Then you leave in the second. If the Archdemon comes after you, you got one shot to get it down."

"And the city?" 

Loghain shook his head, "We'll lose most of it...but we'll lose most of it either way, Warden. We weren't prepared."

He looked to Zevran, "Can you fly?"

"Fly, yes. Land...not so much," he admitted.

"It will be enough," Loghain said, taking his arm out of his sling, "We'll get weapons from the armoury and then fight our way up. I'll get the message out and meet you there. It's only two more blocks, it should be safe."

Tabris followed Zevran down the hall, pistol ahead of her. They shot down a few more creatures before Zevran unlocked the armoury, closing them inside. Tabris picked up a few knives and a semi-automatic. Zevran loaded himself with as much as he could carry before they met Loghain outside the door. 

"I'll go first," the Teryn said, "Cover me."  
They shot their way through the first two floors, stopping on the third in order for Zevran to restitch Tabris' wounded shoulder. She in turn rewrapped Loghain's bandages, the man groaning at the touch of her fingers.

"Do you need something for the pain?" She asked kindly.

He shook his head, "We need to keep going."

They came in through the back of the hangar, which only had a few middling darkspawn. Zevran and Tabris cleared them out while Loghain investigated the two bombers. 

"Only one of them is operational," Loghain said finally, "You two will take this plane. We'll take the warhead and place it with the other plane. When the time comes, I'll set them off. We'll have to clear off the area the best we can."

"We're leaving him here?" Zevran asked.

Tabris met Loghain's eyes and she shook her head. The cry of the Archdemon shook through them as the hangar door was ripped open.

"Fire everything!" Tabris ordered.

The three went forward: the men with flamethrowers and Tabris behind them, balancing the rocket launcher over her shoulder. She knelt, aiming at the dragon before her. She fired four times in quick succession, the final whiplash throwing her onto her back. She got back up, pulling her pistol from her belt.

The creature lay near death, crawling towards them slowly. Its eyes ran with blood. The two men ran back to the hangar, shooting off the trailing darkspawn. The Archdemon raised its head, roaring weakly at them. 

Loghain looked at her tiredly, his bloodied hand touching her face.

"Go," he murmured.

Tabris kissed his forehead and climbed up into the cockpit. Zevran closed the seal and took off. She closed her eyes, hearing the cry of the dragon. But at the last minute, she looked back.

The blast shook through the plane, throwing it across the sky. They both screamed, holding onto each other as they twirled around and around, the orange smoke filling the cockpit. Tabris took the single oxygen mask hanging down and put it over Zevran's mouth. 

Another shockwave hit them, sending Tabris' head sharply forward against the dash. She pressed down on the wound, feeling the blood running down her fingers. She tried to keep awake but her vision grew whiter and whiter. She could vaguely see the ground coming towards them and she curled into her chest.

She crawled out of the smouldering wreckage, seeing the great orange glow over Denerim. She walked only a few paces before she fell, hitting the ground hard.


	14. Chapter 14

They made the decision in the few quiet moments in the hospital. After the months of travelling, Tabris said goodbye to her friends quickly and in relative privacy. It wouldn't be long until the media found out what had happened. Zevran was strong enough to leave, so he would come with her and Sten when they smuggled themselves out of the country. Leliana and Morrigan decided to come along as well, the latter incredibly quiet since the battle. She said she had much she had wanted to discuss with Tabris, but there had not been enough time. 

It was Alistair who she spoke to last. The young prince stood in the waiting area alone, his bodyguards just outside the room. He looked out the windows, seeing his subjects below. From behind, she could see that boy on the battlefield, her companion in arms. No matter what else happened, they had survived to this point together.

He turned and smiled weakly. She stood beside him.

"They can't see us up here," he promised, "But if they can, that hospital gown covers your modesty well enough."

Tabris said softly, "We're leaving."

Alistair asked, "Where will you go?"

"To Seheron, for now," Tabris replied, "I'll write you an address when I have one."

"I'd like that," he said, squeezing her hand.

She gestured down, "Your adoring public awaits."

He chuckled, "Then I'd better go see them."

She left the room and returned to her own, seeing Leliana and Morrigan bickering over Tabris' traveling clothes. Zevran napped on the bed, a jacket tossed over his shoulders. 

"Where's Sten?" She asked.

Leliana said, "He's on the phone down the hall. Come, get dressed, our taxi will be here soon. We're taking a train in two hours, so we need to be ready to go! Oh this is going to be so much fun!"

Morrigan grumbled, "A train with her all the way to Val Royeaux? Gods, have mercy on us all."

Tabris dressed in the bathroom, settling back into her blouse and skirt. She paused, looking at herself in the mirror. She touched the wedding ring, now on her right hand. She brushed through her hair, trying to avoid the bandaging on her forehead. She came back out, the others packed and ready to go.

Sten apologized as he came in the door, not looking at the others as he picked up Tabris' bag. They went out towards the elevator, but Sten held her back.

"If you are well enough, kadan," he asked quietly, "Would you take the stairs with me?"

She nodded, following him into the stairwell. Once they were alone, he kissed her softly. She smiled against his lips.

"I have phoned the Ferelden consulate in Alam," Sten said, "Your documents will be ready by the time we arrive. You will have legal resident status under my sponsorship."

"How romantic," she teased.

Sten said, "I try."

He stroked her cheek, "We will have quiet there. A house for us both. You will heal and you will be stronger again. Whatever I can provide, you will have."

"You could have told me this in the elevator," she said with a tired smile, leaning against the railing, "I thought you were letting me get some rest." 

She giggled as he picked her up, carrying her down the steps.

"As you wish," he chuckled.


End file.
